Survival
by Razell
Summary: Sean Walcott wakes up in the morgue, naked and alone. He has literally nothing but Scott's offer of help and the knowledge that The Mute is still out there, seeking to end his life. Can he survive? Rated for some minor cursing, gore, descriptive cannibalism, sexual references and violence. May be OOC at times. Vulnerable!Sean. Protective!Derek. Not Slash. Stalia. Scydia?
1. Chapter 1

Survival

Chapter 1

Waking in Hell

...

The first thing Sean Walcott noticed was the cold. It was an icy chill that seemed to penetrate deep into his bones. The second thing he noticed was that he was laying on a cold metal surface, naked as the day he was born, with just a thin white sheet covering him.

He immediately shot up, and regretted it. The world swam around him, and his back was on fire. He looked around, working through the murk and pain. He recognized the place instantly, he'd been to such places before.

He was in a morgue.

He put his cold hands over blue lips to muffle his scream of horror.

 _OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod! I'm dead!_

The rapid thumping of his heart quickly dispelled that notion, as did the rumbling in his stomach, the ache in his heart.

And the scents.

The all-too familiar scents.

His mother's perfume. His father's cologne. His older brother's after-shave that he'd always thought smelled ridiculous.

Something broke inside of him.

No. No, Fate couldn't be this cruel, this sick.

He slowly walked over to the nearest storage unit, and reluctantly opened it, pulling out the cadaver.

The face of Michael Walcott stared blindly upwards, unseeing, unmoving.

Sean pulled back from his father's corpse, pushed it back into its niche, retched and crawled into a corner, huddling naked on the freezing tile floor, and began to sob uncontrollably

...

He was hungry. Even with his family dead around him, he had to eat or become a monster again.

He forced himself up, muscles protesting, and went toward the nearest unfamiliar scent. It was a young woman, her neck was cleanly broken, but he didn't have the time or mental fortitude to consider how she died, only the raging Hunger inside him.

He began to feed like the starving Wendigo he was.

...

Once he was sated he felt sick, looking at the mangled remains. This was someone's daughter, sister, friend. But he had to eat. There was no choice.

He considered his situation.

He was stark naked in a freezing morgue. He needed clothes, and he needed to get out.

But The Mute.

The mouthless bastard was probably waiting right outside, enjoying his fear, his utter terror.

His clear green eyes flashed around the room desperately. They landed on a bag of clothing, most likely the effects taken from a recent 'guest'. They were not his, but they would cover him just the same.

After washing the blood off of himself in the sink, he went to put on the clothes. He was lucky, there were even tennis shoes in the bag. The clothes were a bit tight on him, but better than running around with his manhood on display to the world. Luck was with him again when he saw a surgical tray loaded with knives, scalpels and other tools. He hastily grabbed a large scalpel and slowly, carefully made his way to the door, praying that God would have some mercy on one pitiful young Wendigo and The Mute wouldn't be hiding in the shadows.

He wasn't.

Sean silently gave a thankful gaze upward before rushing out. There were emergency exits, but he wasn't sure if they'd set off alarms. The cops, and likely The Mute as well, were probably crawling all over the hospital.

Especially after what he'd done to that deputy. And what about that poor boy he'd thrown off the roof? He could still see those innocent, terrified blue eyes... _God, I really am a monster._ He vaguely remembered the werewolf's teeth sinking into the boy's arm, keeping him from falling. He had little doubt that a powerful werewolf could pull a light teenage boy up using only his teeth, but it would be agonizing. And then what? It was unlikely the werewolf would have savaged the boy. He seemed to want to save him, though that bite had doomed him to life as a werewolf...

 _Wendigo don't need help, we need food!_

He'd been wrong, so wrong.

He hadn't wanted to harm anyone, but he was just so hungry, so frightened, so alone. He'd lost control of his hunger, done horrible things to innocent people. His family was... He didn't want to think about that. The Mute had made it clear he was next. Was that why he was here? Was that why he had blacked out fighting the werewolf?

Oh God, was _he_ still here?

Sean decided to chance it, he had to get out of the hospital. He pushed through a door marked 'Emergency Exit'.

Hell, it _was_ an emergency, his life was in danger.

He was suddenly outside. There were no alarms on the door.

He could see a few police cars, not as many as he had expected. How long had he been unconscious?

He slipped into the shadows.

 _Okay so you're out. Now what, Sean? You can't go home, that's the first place they'll look. The first place he'll look._

 _'I can help you. Please, let me help you.'_

He was desperate. The young werewolf had seemed sincere, but it could have been a trick to lower his defenses.

He had no choice. Nowhere to go, no one to turn turn to, and an evil, sadistic psychopath on his heels.

He began sniffing for traces of the werewolf's scent.

If he was to die, he'd rather the werewolf kill him than the monster that slaughtered his family.

He found the scent, and quietly slipped away into darkness.

...

The McCall house,

"Well, that went well." Stiles Stilenski picked up another wooden remnant of the newly bitten Liam Dunbar's daring escape. Part of the chair he'd broken over his poor head.

"I'm not the one who joked about burying his body in a shallow grave." Scott McCall shot back.

"No, you're just the one who bit him, kidnapped him, wrapped him up in duct tape and threw him in your bathtub. He probably thinks you're an insane pedophile into heavy bondage."

Scott shook his head, so maybe kidnapping Liam like that was a bad way to win his trust. He'd just have to try talking to him, this time.

There was an almost timid knock at the door, timid, but rapid, as if whoever it was was in a hurry.

"Maybe it's Liam?" Scott said.

"Sure. He came back here to get tied up, raped and murdered." Stiles snorted and opened the door.

Outside stood a handsome youth of slightly below medium height with blond hair and pale green eyes. He was pretty buff, and he looked like he'd been through Hell and back. Stiles heard Scott gasp in shock, then growl behind him.

Sean ignored it. He fell to his knees, sobbing. He had no pride left, he had nothing left. "Please, you said you'd help me... I don't have anywhere to turn. He killed my family, and he's after me. Please, I didn't want to do it, I lost control! Please, help me..."

"Who are you again?" Stiles asked.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Sean should have lived.

I wanted a story where Sean wakes up in the morgue and has no place to go, no place to hide, so he comes to Scott. This is it.


	2. Chapter 2

Survival

Chapter 2

Nothing but Trouble

...

Scott quickly dragged the sobbing boy inside before anyone, especially anyone without a mouth, could see him. He was already wolfed-out, just in case this was a trick. But he doubted it. The kid was truly terrified.

He was also confused as Hell. "How? You're dead! I saw you die!"

Sean almost smiled, "Wendigo are hard to kill. I woke up in the morgue... With my family." His eyes glossed over as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. He was shivering from the cold night air and sheer terror. "I stole some clothes... I had no one to turn to. But I remembered you said you'd help me."

Stiles stepped forward, "Okay, who is this guy? Scott? Weird crying guy? Anybody?"

"This is the guy who attacked Liam and killed that deputy."

Stiles' eyes widened with horror, "The cannibal?" He stepped back a few feet.

"Sean. Sean Walcott. I couldn't help it, I was _so_ hungry. I was starving, and I lost control."

"What, you didn't eat your _Wheaties_ this morning?"

"Stiles!" Scott barked.

"I'm a Wendigo. I have to eat human flesh or turn into that _thing_ you saw at the hospital. Please, I didn't want to do it, I was so hungry..." His voice was weak now, tired.

Scott arched a brow, "What do you mean your family was with you when you woke up?"

"That guy. The one without a mouth. He murdered them all. My parents, my brother... He said I was next, and I ran. He must have found me. My family was in the morgue when I woke up. I saw my dad's body. His face..."

"Wait, Sean Walcott? As in, The Walcott Axe-Murders? It was on the news... But I heard it was a tomahawk. Honestly, who goes around murdering people with tomahawks nowadays? It sounds pretty politically incorrect to me. I'd be offended, but I'm Polish and..."

Sean ignored him. He could smell the uncertainty in the werewolf, the distrust.

He deserved that.

He could smell something else, too.

"The boy. From the hospital. Is he..."

"He's alive, no thanks to you."

"Thank God!" Sean sounded relieved.

Scott listened to his heartbeat. It was racing and he was radiating fear so strongly he was certain even Stiles could feel it. He wanted to believe him, he really did. But if he turned into a psycho monster once, he could do so again. "How well can you control your... Wendigo thing?"

Sean sniffled, "I can, as long as I get fed regularly. I only freaked out because I hadn't eaten, my family was butchered and that no-mouth was coming to kill me and I was all cut up from breaking out my bathroom window and I need to find Willow-" He started babbling.

"Sean. Listen to me. It's all right. Try to breath slowly. Deep breaths." Stiles recognized the boy was truly terrified, perhaps even having a panic attack, "Try to calm yourself. You're safe now." His voice was calm and soothing.

Sean began breathing slowly, rythmicly. His heart beat began to slow it's jarring pace. Scott watched as Stiles calmed him down. He'd never been good dealing with people, it was good to have a friend like Stiles.

After about fifteen minutes Sean was relatively calm and sitting sitting on the couch, though tears still slipped from his eyes. His pale cheeks were a little red from embarrassment, as he'd literally thrown himself at a stranger's feet and begged for mercy. "I'm sorry." He said softly, "It's just so much to handle. Too much. I have no where to go, to hide. That guy is determined to kill me."

"Why?" Scott asked, sitting beside him on the couch, resisting the urge to throw an arm over him and comfort him. Sure, the kid had suffered horribly, but he was still a cannibal Wendigo, whatever a Wendigo was.

Sean laughed, but there was no humor in it, "I don't know. I've certainly never seen someone like that, much less done anything to him to warrant this. He just told me he'd killed my family and taunted me, asking me if I'd beg for my life like they had..." He looked at his shaking hands, "I guess I did, didn't I? He had me cornered in my bathroom, and told me he'd 'give me a chance' and let me break the mirror to use a shard as a weapon. I broke out the window instead and ran away. It cut up my arms pretty badly, and I lost I lot of blood. Wendigo heal, but not quickly like werewolves." He put his head in his hands, "He must be a hunter. But we were always so careful. How could he have known?"

"How did he speak to you if he didn't have a mouth?" Stiles asked.

"He had some kind of machine that let him talk. Maybe that thing he was carrying with him, it looked like a keyboard."

"That thing Derek tore off of him when that guy attacked Peter." Scott said.

Sean's head shot up, clear green eyes wide, "He attacked someone else?"

"Yeah, Peter Hale. He took a tomahawk to the chest, laced with wolfsbane. _Luckily_ " Stiles added an extra sarcastic emphasis on the word, "Derek was able to save him."

"He attacked the Hales? This guys not just sick, he's crazy!"

Scott was about to ask him how he knew the Hales, but everyone in Beacon Hills had heard of the Hale family, if only because of the fire and Laura's murder.

"Who's Willow?" Stiles asked, remembering Sean mentioning her earlier.

"My cat. Last I saw her was just before I was attacked. I hope she's alright."

Stiles smiled, "That black and white cat? Dad took her to the vet."

Sean gave a loud sigh of relief, "She's all I have left."

Scott looked him in the eyes, "Did you know that your doctor, the one you tried to attack, is my mother?"

Sean shrank back in horror. He was dead now, he knew it. He tried to compose himself.

"I'd rather you kill me than give that mouthless freak the satisfaction." He said, finally.

"I'm not a killer, and I said I'd help you, so I will. It's just right now we have three very big problems. Liam, the boy from the roof, ran away when I tried to explain what happened."

"By kidnapping him, binding him in duct tape and leaving him in the tub." Stiles added gleefully.

Scott glared at him, "So I need to reach him and convince him to accept help before a hunter gets him or the full moon turns him into an uncontrollable animal."

Sean looked at the werewolf in shock, "You tried to win a kid to your side by kidnapping him and treating him like a side of beef? For all he knew you could have been a rapist!"

Stiles smirked, "You kidnapped him first. And I'm sure you know all about using people as sides of beef."

"Yeah, but they were all dead, and we have a code too. _No Kids_ is part of that code."

"As I was saying," Scott said a little too loudly, "The second is that mouthless hunter. He has to be stopped before he kills again."

Sean's eyes narrowed a bit of silver gleamed out, " _That_ we agree on." He said coldly.

"The third is _you_. Whether or not you wanted to, you killed a man, a police officer. That doesn't just go away. Plus you need protection from Mouthless Morty, clothes, food of a sort you can't exactly buy at the grocery store and to convince my mother when she comes home any minute now that you're not going to eat her... _OH MY GOD!_ Mom's due home any minute!" Scott began to panic, pulling on his hair. "What are we going to do? What are we-"

"Dude, chill." Stiles put a hand on his shoulder, "All we have to do is keep him out of sight until we can find a safe house. We could probably do that in the morning. So relax and _Oh Sh***!_ "

The front door unlocked and Melissa McCall walked into the living room.

And froze, staring wide-eyed at Sean with a mixture of disbelief and fear.

"Mom, I can explain..."

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Survival

Chapter 3

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

...

Melissa McCall sat silently as Sean recounted his story, laced with profuse apologies, and explained what he was and why he'd attacked her, occasionally nodding her head or shedding a few tears. She'd known about his family being murdered, of course. But she hadn't known about Liam, and when Sean told her what Stiles had said about kidnapping Liam, (much to the other two boys' horror), she suddenly got up and stared at her son in a way that made The Alpha cringe like a scared puppy.

"YOU DID _WHAT!?_ " Scott cringed even more, covering his sensitive werewolf ears, "You _kidnapped_ a _child_ , bound him in duct tape and brought him to our house! Are you insane!?"

"Mom, I didn't know what else to do..." Scott offered weakly.

"Oh, I don't know, you could have just _talked_ to the poor boy instead of snatching him like some pervert!"

"But mom-"

"No _buts_!" She turned to Stiles, "And _you_ , your father would be so ashamed! If there wasn't a Wendigo in the house I'd redden both your backsides! You wouldn't be able to sit down for a week! You'll be lucky if Liam doesn't call the police! The only reason _I'm_ not going to call them is because I don't want him to turn into a mindless animal at the full moon, and because Sean here needs your help!" She pointed at Scott with The Finger of Doom, "Not _one_ word! Not _One!"_

She turned to Sean, who was practically hyperventilating, even though she hadn't been yelling at him, "I want you to let me see your arms and back, make sure you're healing okay." Her voice was once again pleasant, "It's okay, Sean, I'm not mad at you. I understand how these things go, after all, my son is a Werewolf, albeit a very _stupid_ one."

Scott flinched at that remark.

"Thank you, Dr. McCall." Sean fairly squeaked. He pulled off his shirt and let her examine him.

"The cut is much lighter now, at this rate it should be gone by tomorrow afternoon." She eyed the wound on his back in wonder, the blow had apparently been fatal. She'd seen Sean's blood and gore covered body, much of it not his own. He'd had no discernible vital signs, no heartbeat, no pulse. Yet he was standing here in her living room, alive, apparently well and looking incredibly sexy... _Wait, did I just call him sexy? He's my son's age! Keep it together Melissa, you're not a cougar..._

"Can I put my shirt back on?"

"Of course." _Though it's a shame to hide that beautiful body._ She shook her head, _It's the stress, it has to be. He's practically a child! A child whose pants fit that fine butt like a very tight glove..._

"Maybe you should call Dr. Deaton." She turned to Stiles, pulling her eyes away from the oblivious Sean, "He probably knows about Wendigo. Sean, you should stay inside and keep the curtains closed, don't let _anyone_ see you unless Scott or I clear them. And keep your eyes open, I don't want that murderer coming in and killing us all..." She looked at Sean sadly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Sean had sat back on the couch. He was looking down at the rug, "It's okay. They're gone... I have to accept that." He sounded almost defeated. It was heart-breaking.

She turned back to Stiles, "And call about getting his cat back, too. And he'll need clothes, maybe you could have Parrish go into his room and bring some of his clothes and belongings here. Sean, you should make a list of things you need. And tell him to make sure he isn't followed!" _Not that I'd mind if Sean went around naked..._

She mentally slapped herself.

"Oh, Sean. I know this is a long shot, but I remember reading that pork is very similar to human flesh. Some tribes of cannibals even called human flesh 'long pig', it's so similar. Do you think that could help you, at least for a while?"

Sean's eyes brightened slightly, "Yes, it's one of the few things that can fill us up, to a point. But after a period of time we have to have to eat human flesh, or turn into, well, what I was when you saw me."

"And it might be a good idea to have some of your friends keep an eye out for that... Monster." She picked up her own phone, "I better get word to the coroner not to mention the missing body, or the one that was, " She shivered slightly, "Eaten. As long as tall, dark and mouthless thinks Sean's dead, the safer we'll all be."

...

Somewhere else,

The Mute sharpened his tomahawk. He'd finally finished with the Walcott's, they hadn't been worth the time and he wasn't sure why The Benefactor wanted them dead, all he knew was that he'd finally killed that brat and was paid another $250,000 dollars. Times four that made him a million. But it wasn't about the money, if it was just about the money he wouldn't have bothered chasing the Walcott kid down. Money was just a benefit. The thrill of stalking, of killing was what made him follow Sean. Unlike his family, he'd had the sense to run, he could have caught him then, bleeding and injured, but there was no sport in that. Tracking him, letting the fear set in, letting him know that, no matter how many people he had around him, he was not safe. It was a pity it ended like it did, he'd hoped to corner the boy alone and toy with him a bit, then watch as the light slowly faded in those beautiful green eyes. But he'd pushed him too far, driven the Wendigo out into the light and pushed Sean aside. That would have been an interesting challenge, if that idiot Werewolf hadn't shown up to fight the brat before he could.

In the end, all he got to do was stab him in the back. He didn't even even get to see the look on his face.

What a disappointment that was.

But it brought a new piece into play. That boy McCall bit, Liam Dunbar. But he knew The Orphans were already moving in for the kill.

Amateurs.

Fortunately for them, McCall was a sentimental fool who refused too kill even his worst enemies, Deucalion was allowed to go free after murdering two members of McCall's pack and numerous others, The Alpha Twins, who aided in the killing, even became something of friends to the little Pack until one foolishly got himself killed and the other left Beacon Hills. But there was no price on either Deucalion or Ethan's heads, and they were both far away. Peter Hale, a mad dog who should have been put down years ago, was practically Pack. Oddly enough, his name wasn't on The Deadpool.

Why?

It was best not to delve too deeply into such questions, perhaps Peter was The Benefactor. No, even after accidentally stabbing Peter trying to reach Derek, he'd still been paid for Sean...

It was better not to know.

Shut up, do as you're told, get paid.

Of course, without his vocalizer he couldn't ask any questions anyway.

Another drawback of having no mouth.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Beware The Wrath of Mom! Scott is so dead.

No, this isn't Sean X Melissa, though that would be an interesting pairing. She's just admiring the view, that's all. Just admiring the view.


	4. Chapter 4

Survival

Chapter 4

Running Puppy, Hidden Wendigo

...

Deaton shook his head. He'd dealt with Werewolves, Banshees, Demons, Kitsune and all manner of creatures supernatural, but a Wendigo was a first. Sure, he knew about them, had read about them, but never expected to meet one.

"Well, Sean, I can tell you for a certainty that you are _not_ a zombie."

"I just have a similar craving for human flesh."

"Unfortunately. There is probably something your body is lacking that can only be found in humans, possibly some kind of protein, hence the need to eat them."

Sean stroked Willow's fur anxiously, "Maybe we could find a pill to give me whatever I need..."

"Perhaps. It's also possible it's not something physical, but spiritual somehow."

"Great, I'm _spiritually_ defective. Does this mean I'm going to Hell?"

"That's not what I meant, 'spiritual' is merely the best way I can think to express it at the moment. Some sort of energy that Wendigo lack. This is all speculation, of course."

Scott and Stiles were in school trying to talk to Liam and explained why he'd been bitten by a Werewolf, kidnapped and wrapped up like an S&M dom's birthday present. Melissa was at work, and thus Dr. Deaton and the infamous Werewolf Derek Hale were asked to watch over Sean in case The Mute returned. Of course, as The Mute was also after Derek that seemed to make little sense. Officer Parrish was watching the McCall house under the pretext of a prowler being seen in the area. As asked, he'd brought some of Sean's clothes and a few photos and other sentimental items, for which Sean was extremely grateful. Sean didn't know why Jordan Parrish didn't just haul his pathetic ass to jail for murder after he killed that poor deputy in a blind hunger, but he wasn't going to argue with him. He knew what happened to boys like him in prison...

Maybe they really did believe the cover story that The Mute had killed him.

Derek Hale was a terrifying man. He looked like someone who had just caught his best friend sleeping with his wife, his sister and his brother, then saw him run over his kitten with a steamroller. Stiles had referred to him as 'Sourwolf', but to Sean he was more 'Scary Wolf'. He felt like someone had stuck him in a red hood, handed him a package of goodies for grandma, and tossed him into the forest with The Big Bad Wolf. He was certain his teeth were bigger than Derek's, but he'd get them all ripped out painfully, one by one, if he crossed him.

Deaton was an African-American doctor/shaman or something who knew all sorts of mystic secrets. He was nice, but had a mysterious air and was a veterinarian for Werewolves. He'd brought Willow, immediately ingratiating himself with Sean. "You seem in excellent shape, Sean, especially for a young man who was declared dead the night before last. " He smiled, "Your arm is healed, but your back will take a few days."

"Thanks." He looked at his arm, the areas that had been slashed so badly were little more than light scars now, soon those would vanish. The memories of that night, however, would stick with him forever.

He looked over at the brooding Hale and gathered his courage, "Is your, uh," How did Scott say Peter was related to Derek again? "Uncle okay?"

"Yeah. He's fine. Pissed, but fine. You can't kill him, apparently. I know, I tore his throat out once." He replied casually.

The young man paled with horror and held Willow closer to his chest.

"I had a good reason." Derek said, in a tone that clearly said he wasn't going to say anything else about the subject. "Look, kid. I'm not trying to scare you. I'm just not a people person. I might snarl and stare you down, but if that bastard shows up, I'll protect you."

"I can protect myself." His voice was trembling.

"Great job you've done so far."

Sean's eyes fell to the ground, "Wendigo in general aren't brave people. We're strong and have enhanced healing, but we're taught from the moment we're born to hide what we are from everyone, and to avoid conflict. We can't afford for hunters, or worse, the general public, to learn that we actually exist. I _know_ I'm a coward. I'm afraid of The Mute, Hell, I'm _terrified_ of The Mute. My best combat strategy is to run away and pray the other guy doesn't catch me."

"You're not a coward, you're just a scared kid whose been through Hell and back, lost everything you knew and loved and who has a demon on his tail. A demon who is hopefully going to get his due very soon." Derek didn't visibly react one way or another, just a slight, ambiguous nod. "Deaton, could you let me talk to Sean for a minute, alone?"

"Of course." Deaton went into the kitchen to check on the pork chops they were cooking for lunch.

Derek looked Sean dead in the eye. "You've heard of The Hale Fire?"

"Y-yeah. It was before we moved here, but the Hale family is so well-known-"

"I lost almost my entire family. I saw them burn to death while that bitch Kate Argent laughed. She didn't care that we hadn't hurt anyone, or that there were kids inside. She enjoyed every moment of it."

Sean swallowed hard, trying not to let any pity slip into his eyes, he knew Derek didn't want that.

"I was fifteen. A stupid kid who saw a pretty girl who was willing to be around him. And more. She... I was fool enough to think that she actually loved me. I was helpless, and all I could do was beg for their lives." His eyes displayed something between sorrow and utter hatred, "The Mute did that to you. He murdered your entire family and taunted you, hunted you like a dog, struck you from behind like the damn sniveling coward he is. Peter and I don't just want this guy caught because he hurt us, we want him caught for you too, and your family. No one deserves to go through that."

Sean's voice was caught in his throat. He couldn't really say anything, even if he'd known what to say.

Derek pushed himself off the wall and walked over to Sean, "I know you're hurting. But you're not alone. Scott, the others, and me, we'll do whatever we can to keep you safe and help you through this." He rested a strong hand on Sean's broad shoulder, "But I have a reputation to maintain. I can't afford to look soft in front of The Pack. If you tell anyone about this conversation, I'll rip your guts out. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Sean smiled. Despite the threat, he was glad that Derek wasn't The Grumpy Cat he appeared to be.

"What are you smiling about?" Derek resumed his grumpy pose.

...

"Well, that went well." Stiles rolled his eyes, " _The Bite is a gift? We're brothers now?_ Scott, sometimes I wonder if you were dropped on your head as a baby."

"That's what Derek told me."

"Did he kidnap you first and truss you up like a Thanksgiving turkey?"

"Give me a break! I'm new at this!" Scott threw up his hands, "We've got to get to him somehow. He's in terrible danger."

"Speaking of terrible danger, how do you think he'll react if we do convince him to listen and he finds _Sean_ waiting for him?"

"I-"

"Hey guys, something wrong?" Danny and Greenberg had somehow snuck up on them.

"Uh, no. Nothing. Not a thing. Everything's peachy. Just planning for the next game, right Scott. You can never do too much planning, right? So, are you two an item now?"

Danny grinned, "Why, jealous?"

"No, we're not an item. Practice starts in fifteen minutes. Coach is still pissed about that stupid stunt you pulled on Dunbar." Greenberg shook his head, " _What_ were you guys thinking? I haven't seen that kind of jealousy since you came along and knocked Jackson off his high horse."

"I've known Scott for years, and if there's one thing he's not, it's a thinker." Danny laughed.

"Anyway, coach said if you do something like that again, he'll break both your legs. Your's too, Stilinski."

Stile's pushed into Greenberg's personal space, staring him in the eyes. "I can't believe you stopped licking coach's shoes long enough to deliver that message, Greenberg."

Greenberg shook his head, "Stiles, two words: _Anger Management_."

"Just be careful you guys, we're supposed to beat the _other_ team, not each other, remember?" Danny said, "Now hurry up before we're all late."

As Greenberg headed away, Danny turned to Scott, "Did you bite Liam?

Scott nodded.

"Oh my God."

"Yeah. I had to, he was about to fall off of a roof to his death, and my hands were being held behind me. And now he's running loose with no idea what's going on."

"And tonight's the full moon. Maybe I should have left with Ethan and dropped you two." He sighed loudly, "Do you guys think I was too hard on Ethan?"

"Let's see, his twin brother got murdered and the next day you dumped him for being a Werewolf. You do the math."

Danny looked at Stiles like a kicked puppy. "Yeah, I deserve that, don't I? But I think he came to break up with me. He was always trying to protect me, and he didn't want me getting hurt." His dark eyes were even worse than Scott's patented puppy eyes, "We still keep in touch, though. He's doing alright for himself, has a new boyfriend, a job and an apartment... But we were talking about Liam. With these crazy murders going on, I'm worried about the kid, especially after what happened to that Walcott boy."

"Actually, Sean's-"

Stiles quickly put a hand over Scott's mouth, "Yeah, that was terrible. He was so young. I can't believe that creep stalked him all the way to the hospital, probably some kind of sicko. Stabbed him in the back, dad said, didn't even have the courage to face him. I hope they catch the guy before he hurts anyone else. I mean, he killed Sean's whole family. And probably killed other people. And other people's families..."

"Was Sean Walcott a Werewolf too?"

"No, he was a Wendigo. Ever hear of The Wendigo? In Algonquin tradition a Wendigo is an evil, cannibalistic spirit that overcomes certain people and causes them to crave human flesh. They're pretty much the same in real life, except for the evil spirit part."

"It's a shame, from the pictures I saw on TV, he was HOT." Danny's face fell, "I shouldn't be talking like that about a kid who just got murdered. His life was far more important than my libido... God! I'm a terrible person."

"No, you're not. And we have just five minutes to get to the locker room before coach breaks our legs and has our balls for breakfast, so let's go. _Now!_ " Stiles rushed off, with Scott and a confused Danny in tow.

...

"So, you're... You were home schooled?"

Sean looked up from his fourth pork chop, (where the Hell did he store all that food?), and nodded. After swallowing his current mouthful he put the meat down for a moment, "Yeah. We thought public school was too dangerous, between all the crazy murders and the fact that David or I could have turned into monsters and tore our classmates apart, it wasn't worth it."

"David was your brother, right?"

"Yeah. He was a year older than me. He was a funny guy, I was always the serious one." He looked down at his meal, obviously trying not to cry, "I miss him so much, I miss them all so much."

"Has anyone considered how to keep you fed?" Deaton asked gently.

"I heard that there were Wendigo in Eichen House, and they're able to keep them fed. So they must have a source. My family did pretty well stealing bodies..." He looked a bit ashamed at that, "That's better than killing people, right?" He laughed weakly, "And with all of these 'animal attacks' that happen in Beacon Hills... There's no shortage of bodies. But I don't want to kill people." His face turned hard, "Except for one. I don't know if I could eat him, but I want to kill that Mute with my bare hands."

...

"Why haven't you called the police?" Mason asked, "These guys are really dangerous. What if they come after you again."

"Hello, who's the Sheriff? John _Stilinski_. Who do you think he'll believe when I tell him his _son_ helped kidnap me? My word against his precious Stiles'?" Liam's blue eyes were wide, "Hell, he might even be in on it, helping them catch kids and do God-know's-what to them! He might hand me over to those nut-jobs himself! It's probably some kind of cult... They probably want to rape me and sacrifice me to some Werewolf demon!"

"They actually said you were going to die and they'd bury you in a shallow grave in the woods? You have to tell _somebody_! Your parents..."

"They said I _might_ die, or turn into a Werewolf. After seeing that crazy boy who attacked me get murdered at the hospital by a guy with no mouth and being _bitten_ by Scott McCall, then kidnapped by him and Stiles, I don't know what to think."

"You could have been hallucinating about that Walcott kid's teeth and Scott's face because of the meds, and the bite could be something else, like a machine injury..."

"But it's almost healed completely," Liam held up his arm and lifted his arm, "It went all the way to the bone when I was bit. And my ankle's perfectly fine now. I didn't really get a good look at that other kid, he was covered in blood and acted like some kind of zombie from a horror movie, but I got a good look at McCall. And he said he was a Werewolf. He changed the color of his eyes this morning!" Liam was frantic, "He said we were 'brothers' now and that 'The Bite' was a gift! He's nuts!"

Neither boy noticed Garrett listening intently while checking his cell phone.

Liam Dunbar - $3

Garrett smiled and texted Violet.

 _So it's true, Liam has been bitten. Three Million? That's a lot for a stupid little pup who was only bitten last night._ He quickly glanced at Liam and Mason, _Sorry Liam, you were a good friend, but now you're going to make us rich... You would have been safer with McCall. Wait a minute, McCall wants Dunbar, and he's noble enough and stupid enough to try to trade himself. And McCall's worth $25,000,000. Man, we are going to be filthy rich! But we have to plan this out, and tonight's the full moon, we aren't capable of taking on two full Werewolves head-on, especially not an Alpha..._

"Liam." Liam and Mason turned to see Scott approaching, "I really need to talk to you, alone."

Liam flung him the finger before he and Mason ran off to the 'safety' of the school building.

"You make quite an impression on people, don't you, McCall."

McCall turned to see one of Liam's friends, a boy from the team named Garrett.

"Listen, Garrett, you're Liam's friend. Could you talk to him. It's extremely important that I talk to him."

"Is he in some kind of danger?"

Scott nervously ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, he is. That's why I have to talk to him."

"Why don't you give me the message and I'll tell him."

Scott looked at him, obviously turning his slow mind towards finding an excuse for not telling Garrett.

"It's personal." Stiles said, appearing as if by magic, "We really can't tell anyone else."

Garrett nodded convincingly, "Okay, I'll tell him. But judging from his reaction to seeing you, I wouldn't hold my breath." He turned and walked casually toward the school.

 _Wait a minute!_

Garrett turned around and walked right back over to Scott and Stiles, "If this really is as important as you say, and Liam's life is in danger... I think I know how to get him to come to you."

"How?"

Garrett couldn't help but smirk, "What is the perfect bait for a straight teenage boy?"

Scott pondered the question for a long moment. Then another long moment.

"Candy?"

Stiles and Garrett face-palmed in unison.

" _A pretty girl_ , stupid. God, why did _he_ get the looks?" Stiles looked up at the sky as if awaiting an answer, "How come I got the brains and the perpetual virginity? Why me?"

"Hey, Danny was willing to sleep with you, remember?" Scott said cheerfully.

"Okay. I did not need to know that." Garrett shook his head, how did someone this stupid become an Alpha?, "Anyway, get a girl to set him up for a romantic date somewhere secluded, and talk to him there."

"That's cold. Toying with a kid's emotions to lead him into a trap. That's borderline evil, dude. You are a GENIUS! Thank you! I think I could get to like you, Garrett." Stiles smiled broadly and slapped the boy on the arm,"I know. Kira! She'd be perfect!"

"Thanks Garrett." Scott said as they walked away.

"Anytime." Garrett waved and went to find Violet.

This was going to be a piece of cake.

...

..

To be continued...

Notes:

The Deadpool lists bounties in this way

Sean Walcott - 250 ($250,000)

David Walcott - 250

Michael Walcott - 250

Christina Walcott - 250

Liam Dunbar - 3 ($3,000,000) later 18 (18,000,000)

Scott McCall - 25 (25,000,000)

Derek Hale - 15 ($15,000,000)

So The Mute got less money for the entire Walcott family than Liam was worth. If he'd succeeded in killing Derek, he'd have made a good profit, but he was too obsessed with killing poor Sean.

I know, Derek is OOC, it's called 'bonding' people. They've both suffered a terrible trauma in their lives, and can't help but relate to one another.


	5. Chapter 5

Survival

Chapter 5

Nightmares

...

It was night, and Sean Walcott was running for his life.

He looked down at the jagged wound on his arm, at the blood pouring out. He needed help.

It was _so_ cold. He was shirtless and barefoot, with only his sweatpants to warm him.

He had to find somewhere safe. Somewhere warm.

They were dead.

Mom. Dad. David.

They were all dead.

And he was next.

His vision began to blur with tears.

He could still hear that monster's 'voice'.

 _Hello Sean, I just killed your family._

 _Are you going to beg for mercy like they did?_

"Coward!" A familiar, yet twisted voice hissed from the darkness. Sean turned in horror as David stepped from behind a parked car. His blond hair was matted with blood, open wounds gaped on his chest, spilling bright red life onto the black asphalt. His once friendly green eyes burned with hate. " _Coward!_ When I heard them screaming I went to _help_ them Sean. But you, you ran away."

Sean recoiled from his dead brother, "No. No, there was nothing I could do... You were already dead..."

"You didn't even check." Christina Walcott emerged from the darkness. She was in even worse shape than her eldest son, a large gash running down her face, biting into her skull, deep slashes across her chest and arms, "No, you went to save yourself. How could I give birth to someone like you?"

"Mom... Please!" Sean fell to his knees, sobbing as his dead, mutilated brother and mother drew closer, "I swear I didn't know you were being attacked! I couldn't do anything!"

"You could have died like your brother," Michael Walcott appeared, his head barely supported by his badly slashed throat, face and chest ravaged by The Mute's tomahawk. Blood poured from his mouth as he spoke. "But you ran away. You'll never be the man he was. You'll always be that cowardly little boy, running, looking over your shoulder. Trying to extend your miserable life at any cost. You are a disgrace! You are not my son!"

He felt a warm, hard hand grasp his bare shoulder.

He turned, shaking in terror.

It was _Him_.

Cold, soulless eyes stared down at him. Fingers played across the instrument at his side.

 _It's time, Sean. Time to join your family, though they don't seen happy to see you._ The taunting voice was mechanical, but laced with menace, _Pathetic little boy, you weren't even worth the effort._

He watched frozen as The Mute pulled him roughly backwards with the hand on his shoulder, leaving him sprawled on the frozen asphalt. The hand vanished, then reappeared with a tomahawk, glistening red, dripping his family's shed blood onto his pale face. He could hear his family shouting for his death as the pale, mouthless creature loomed over him, raising the weapon high and slashing down-

"NOOOOOO!" Sean bolted upright, screaming. He was trembling, his body covered in sweat, his bare chest heaving as he gasped down air like a drowning man. His heart pounded like a jackhammer.

There was no blood, no mouthless man. Only a warm bed and blankets that he had bunched and crumbled as he struggled in the grasp of his terrible dream.

"Sean!" Melissa McCall burst into the room, gun in hand.

She saw the sweaty, panting, wide-eyed boy lying in the guest bed, his blond hair soaked with perspiration, a look of pure terror on his pale face. There was no sign of any intruder.

"I-i-it's okay." He gasped, face turning bright red, "It, it was just a dream. I'm... Sorry I scared you."

Melissa lowered the gun and clicked the safety on. God, how she wished Scott was here. But Sean wasn't the only boy who needed saving tonight.

"No, Sean. It's not alright. You had a nightmare, maybe even a night terror." She kept her voice gentle, she'd dealt with this sort of thing before, when Stiles would have a night terror or a panic attack while staying over. She briefly considered how bad an idea it was to walk within striking distance of a terrified Wendigo, but she'd dealt with terrified, even delusional patients before. She was a doctor, and she'd be damned if she ran from a patient in need. She sat next to him and ran a gentle hand through his drenched hair, "And I'm not angry. You need someone right now. Someone to help you through this." It was hard to believe that this frightened boy was the same person she had seen with silver eyes and massive teeth, gnawing on a police officer's entrails.

Sean fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. "Thank you. I don't understand how you can be so kind to me, after what you saw, after I tried to-"

"That wasn't you. That wasn't Sean Walcott. That was a monster who broke free in a moment of extreme pain, grief and anguish."

There was a loud thud downstairs, and Melissa quickly aimed her gun at the door as Sean readied himself as best he could for a fight.

It was officer Parrish. His gun was drawn and ready

She let out a sigh of relief and Sean allowed himself to relax, slightly.

"Mrs. McCall, I heard screams and I thought something had happened."

"It's alright, Jordan. Sean just had a night terror."

Parrish nodded, he knew about those from Stiles.

"I'm sorry." Sean was even more embarrassed now. He felt like a small child again, with everyone rushing to comfort him after a bad dream.

"Don't worry about it, I know people who have those, including friends." He said, "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

...

Fifteen minutes and one quick shower later the three were sitting around the dinner table as Melissa brewed up some some coffee and handed Sean a cup of hot chocolate.

"Scott isn't back yet?" Sean asked softly. He was now wearing clean sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"No. He texted me while you were in the shower. He said he found the Dunbar boy and they're both going to be alright. Apparently everything worked out fine. Though it sounded to me like he was at a _party_..."

Sean allowed himself a smile.

"This town just keeps getting stranger and stranger. But it's home." Officer Parrish thanked Melissa as she handed him a cup of hot coffee. "I thought I'd seen it all after that whole 'Lizard Boy' incident..."

"No, there's always something lurking around Beacon Hills. I think if a zombie apocalypse did hit, no one here would notice." Melissa and Jordan chuckled, and Sean just smiled.

"One of the perks of the job, dealing with supernatural creatures, psychopathic hunters, demons and Stiles Stilinski. Though I didn't expect Stiles when I joined the force."

"Is he that bad?" Sean asked.

"He's not a bad kid, he just gets ideas, ideas that turn into what we in the department like to call 'Stilestastrophes'. I lost count of how many times he's broken into the school alone for one reason or another. He doesn't steal anything, but he usually leaves a mess behind him. And occasionally a body or two... Don't get me wrong, he's no killer, but he always manages to stumble over bodies somehow, wherever he goes. Like he's in one of those detective shows. How John keeps his sanity I don't know." He looked deeply into his coffee for a moment. "Sean. I think you deserve to know this. The guy who killed your family, he's probably not working alone."

Sean took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"A guy who looks like that would have a hard time hiding in plain sight. Someone has to get the things he needs for him, unless he orders everything online. Which is not impossible. But," He paused, trying to figure out how to say it, and deciding the plain truth was best, "A girl was found dead at a truck stop just outside of town. Different M.O. Her hand had been cut off and she'd been, well, decapitated. She was a Werewolf. Now, I don't think it's a coincidence that a family of Wendigoes and a Werewolf girl get brutally murdered, and another Werewolf is attacked within the space of three days. Not to mention the attack on you at the hospital."

Melissa put her hand on Sean's, which was trembling slightly. He smiled appreciatively at the comforting gesture.

"There is no doubt whatsoever the mouthless guy killed your family, attacked Peter Hale, threatened Derek Hale and nearly killed you. There's no question of that. But this other girl... None of the shoe impressions nearby matched The Mute, and, crazy as it sounds, the prints found by her severed hand are small and from a young woman's shoe. She was probably attacked and killed by a teenage girl."

"A teenage girl decapitating someone?" Melissa asked in disbelief.

"Hunters start young. I think a group, maybe even a clan of hunters has come to town, and Chris Argent agrees with me. The Argent's are going to do what they can to find out more, but even when this guy is caught, you'll need to be on guard until we figure out what's going on and put a stop to it."

Sean nodded, "I'm used to staying indoors and out of sight."

"Good. Just keep doing that, and everything should be okay. They think you're dead, don't give them any reason to doubt that."

"There's something else. We still have a freezer full of dead bodies at your house, Sean. Some of them have clearly been partially eaten."

Sean swallowed hard, "They were already dead. Dad worked at a mortuary, and sometimes we'd get lucky and find a fresh body. We didn't kill any of them."

"I'm sure you're telling the truth, but there are a lot of things that we can't let the public, or worse, the media, find out about. So far only myself, Lydia Martin, who's a Banshee and not in a position to expose you, Deaton, who also has no reason to talk, and now Melissa know about this. This is illegal, and I could lose my job if IA gets wind of this, but the bodies are still there. You need them, and it's better than having you go berserk again and start creating more. Now I know Mrs. McCall wouldn't like to find a corpse on her dining room table, but this is only a temporary place, and the bodies should hold for months, maybe even years. If you start to feel the hunger and think you might lose control, call me, and I'll bring you one."

"Where do you think I'll end up?"

"We'll be taking you to a safe house, for now. Not right now, but as soon as possible. You won't be alone, we'll have someone there to keep you company and protect you."

"Why can't he stay here?" Melissa asked. She was becoming quite fond of the boy.

"Because then we'd be putting your life and your son's life in danger as well, assuming The Mute learns Sean's alive before we can catch him and any accomplices he may have. Besides, you can't support two kids, I know the hospital hasn't been able to pay you what you deserve due to all the lawsuits caused by the Nogitsune's killing spree. And, like I said, Could you really handle watching Sean eat?"

Sean's eyes dropped to his empty cup. The officer was right, he was a burden to the McCall's.

"Scott is a Werewolf, an Alpha. He's probably on the top of the hit list, and he has his friends over all the time, most of them are probably on the list too. It might be best for Sean to be around people his own age, people like him... Well, other supernaturals, I mean. And I can manage."

"I was thinking of somewhere where he could meet and integrate with The Pack, without any financial stress on the owner of the house. I was talking with Derek Hale, and he agreed to take Sean in, if he needed it."

"Grumpy Cat?" Sean asked, "He'd take me in?"

"But, that creep's already said he's coming after Derek! He attacked his uncle at his house!"

"He has a few places besides the loft, Melissa. Including a cabin in the forest on Hale property."

"But I don't trust Peter Hale." Melissa had never trusted the man, there was something about him that screamed 'psycho killer'. Not to mention the fact he bit Scott. And murdered his own sister...

"He's not going to be-" His phone rang.

"It's the sheriff."

He listened for a moment, and a smile formed on his face.

"You did? Where?"

"I'll be right over!" He looked up at Sean, "They found the mouthless bastard! He's hiding in the High School! John, Derek and Peter are about to take him down." He jumped up from his seat, "Thanks for the coffee Mrs. McCall. I have to run."

Sean stood, a grim look on his face, "I'm coming with you."

"I can't do that kid, it's too dangerous. You're under my protection."

"You can take me, or I'll run all the way." Jordan saw a flash of silver in the boy's eyes, and he knew he meant it.

"Get dressed. And stay behind me!"

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Sean and everyone else call The Mute 'The Mute' because it fits, they don't know if he calls himself that or if it's his alias.

The wounds on the various Walcott's probably don't fit the crime scene photos as shown on the show, but it's Sean's nightmare, his worst fears.

I don't know if the McCall's have a guest room in canon, but they do now. And yes, Sean was wearing clothes when Melissa came in.

'Lizard Boy' is, of course, Jackson Whittemore in Kanima form.

Melissa made the coffee because Parrish and Sean are guests in her home, not because she is a woman.

IA - Internal Affairs, the people who police the police.


	6. Chapter 6

Survival

Chapter 6

Hitting The Mute Button

...

Beacon Hills High

The Mute silently cursed as the Sheriff and the Werewolf spotted his trap.

Apparently not _everyone_ in Beacon Hills was an idiot.

This was bad. Killing an entire family had caused some media interest, murdering a sheriff would bring the Feds down on him. But he didn't exactly have a choice. Besides, they already blamed him for the deputy the Walcott boy had killed.

The Werewolf had his scent, now.

It was Derek Hale.

He swiftly drew his tomahawk and charged into the hallway, swinging for Hale's head. Both opponents were faster than he thought, the sheriff barreled into him, slamming him against the wall and knocking the tomahawk from his hand. He was roughly thrown to the ground, with a gun pointed right between his eyes.

"Hold it right there! You're under arrest for the murders of Sean, David, Michael and Christina Walcott." Stilinski threw his cuffs to Derek, who handcuffed the subject, "You have the right to remain silent..."

The Mute looked at the sheriff with an almost comical expression as John Stilinski realized just how ridiculous that sounded when arresting a man without a mouth. The Miranda Laws had never seen this coming, "Anything you, er, communicate in some fashion can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right-"

"John, need any help?" A voice came from behind him.

"We got him, Jordan. And he's ugly as sin."

The Mute glared at him, then his eyes widened in a combination of disbelief and terror.

 _No. That's not possible..._

Derek looked at the newcomers in surprise and concern, "Parrish, what's _he_ doing here?"

The sheriff got behind The Mute to see who was with Parrish, and nearly had a heart attack himself.

"Oh my God in Heaven."

The late Sean Walcott was standing beside officer Parrish, quite obviously still among the living. His narrowed eyes were shining an odd silver, which seemed to be trying to set The Mute afire simply by force of hatred alone.

"You murdered my family. My parents. My brother. You tried to kill me. You took everything I loved." His voice was shaky with rage, he slowly knelt down and picked up the tomahawk. "You wanted me to beg for my life. Tell me, how much do you value your's?"

"Sean, put it down! Let the law handle this!"

"I wonder if there's a mouth under all that skin? Maybe I should slice it off and see."

The Mute shook his head desperately. He doubted the kid had it in him to kill him in cold blood, but he was so far gone last he'd seen him, he'd murdered a police officer and tried to throw a kid off of a building. Even if he did let him live, The Benefactor would eventually find out that Sean was still alive, that he/she/they'd paid $250,000 dollars for a failed bounty. His own name would be on The Deadpool now.

John Stilinski holstered his gun and pulled out his tazer. He might not like vigilante justice, but if came to shooting the kid or letting him kill the guy who murdered his family, he wouldn't pull the trigger. But he'd damn well try to talk him out of it. "Listen, Sean. I know he hurt you. But if you kill him, you may end up in jail, and we'll never find out what he was up to, who he was working with." He looked at those gleaming silver eyes, at the tears trickling from them, "You don't want to kill anyone Sean. You don't want to throw away your life on trash like this."

Sean eyed the tomahawk, the weapon that haunted his nightmares, that he saw behind every corner, in every shadow. His hand was shaking.

He remembered when he and David would throw around a ball in the yard. When mom would scold them for tracking mud in the house, and dad would just laugh. He remembered dad giving him 'The Talk' and wondering what birds and bees had to do with human reproduction. He'd always been a sharp kid, and he owned a computer, dad was a little late on that subject. How David teased him about practicing gymnastics, saying it was 'girly', and mom would smack him on the back of the head for insulting his little brother.

"They were good people! Innocent people! Why? Why us?" The tomahawk dropped from his trembling hand, "We never hurt you..."

He knew the little coward didn't have it in him. A Wendigo afflicted with morality. What a joke. Why would anyone pay to have such a pathetic creature killed? His life wasn't worth $25.00, much less $250,000.

All Wendigo were cowards. It was bred into them.

The Mute looked relieved for a moment, but only a moment.

A tall, black figure with burning red eyes appeared, looming in the shadows behind Sean and Parrish like The Spectre of Death.

"I figured you had first rights, kid, as he killed your family." A gravelly voice fairly snarled, "But seeing that you can't do what has to be done..."

Before anyone could react, Peter Hale tore into The Mute, ruthlessly ripping flesh from bone with tooth and claw. Blood splattered everywhere as he savaged the assassin who'd put a wolfsbane-laced tomahawk in his chest. The Mute writhed in agony as he was gutted like a fish. Finally he reached down to the blank space where The Mute's mouth should have been, and ripped away the empty flesh, revealing nothing but fused bone. There was a gurgling sound from The Mute's exposed lung, then his eyes rolled back into their sockets. Everyone but Peter Hale stood in shock, looking at the bloody mess of a corpse.

"We have a new way, Peter. A better way." Derek said softly.

"I like my way better." Peter walked away, and no one made a move to stop him.

Derek finally rose and put an arm around the sobbing Sean as the two police officers tried to think of a way to explain this...

...

Sheriff Stilinski was utterly confused, "How are you alive? I saw the body... I saw you. You were stone-cold dead."

"A little deeper and I would have been, but he," Sean nodded towards the bloody mass on the floor, "Didn't strike as hard as he thought. I went into a kind of hibernation. Dad-" His voice cracked a little, "Dad said that when we get too badly injured, sometimes we have to go into a death-like state to heal."

"We? Are you a Werewolf?"

"I'm... I'm something else. We're not supposed to talk about it, because most humans and even other non-humans hate us."

John arched a brow, "You're a vampire?"

Sean smiled, "Nope, I don't sparkle in the sunlight, either."

"Then what in The -"

"Sheriff," Derek interposed himself between the two, "The body's getting cold. You have to think of a reasonable explanation for how a wild animal got into the high school and tore a man with no mouth apart in a hallway."

"He's right, sheriff." Parrish added, "But not here. We need to move the body to a wooded area, where an attack would be more likely. I'll call somebody to clean up the blood and... Other stuff, and take the body somewhere that's _not_ a public school."

The sheriff threw up his hands, "I don't want to know."

"I'll drive Sean back to the safe-house." Derek added.

"Safe-house? What safe-house? And why didn't anyone tell me Sean was alive?"

They all looked at each other. "Well, I figured Stiles would tell you." Derek replied.

"Stiles knew about this! And he didn't tell me? That's it, when he gets home, we are going to have a long talk..." Sheriff Stilinski walked away, "And get Sean's statement on the hospital attack!"

"Already done sir," Parrish said cheerfully, "It's in my cruiser."

"What about Peter?"

"And who's going to bring him?"

"Forget it. Protect the kid, Hale. And keep Peter away from him."

Derek gave a half-smile and turned to Sean, "Are you alright? I mean, it got pretty intense, and seeing that... _Thing_ die..."

"At least I know that he can't hurt me anymore. I don't have to look at the shadows, or the bushes or alleys and wonder if he's waiting for me. There are always going to be hunters, but this was personal. I'm know it's wrong, but I'm glad he's dead. I only wish I knew why he chose us."

"It's alright. C'mon, I'll take you back to Mrs. McCall."

...

Derek Hale's Camero pulled into the driveway of the McCall home shortly before daybreak, and he quickly hustled Sean toward the door. The Mute was dead, true, but who knew if he acted alone?

Mrs. McCall answered the door, and she was clearly relieved that Sean was alright. She took his hand and pulled him into the house, Derek stepping in right behind him and shutting the door. "Jordan phoned me and told me what happened. I'm proud of you, Sean." She looked anxiously toward the living room, "There's something I have to tell you. You remember Liam Dunbar? From the hospital?"

Derek took one sniff and recognized the scent from the roof of the hospital. "Oh, crap."

Sean recognized the scent as well.

"Hey mom, is Sean back?" Scott walked to the door, smiling, a blonde haired, blue eyed boy of about fifteen or so sticking closely to his back, eyes wide with terror. "Sean, you remember Liam, right? Liam, this is Sean Walcott."

"ZOMBIE!" Liam screamed and ran into another room, locking the door behind him. They could hear furniture being moved against the door.

"That certainly went well." Derek said wryly. "You _did_ explain what Sean was and that he wasn't a Zombie, _right_ , Scott?"

"Uh, heh... I kinda forgot some of that Wendigo stuff..."

"We could always tie him up again. Where'd you put the duct tape?" Stiles piped in from the living room couch.

"Shut up, Stiles!" Derek and Melissa shouted in unison.

"Just tryin' to help. Jeez, don't bite my head off. I'm serious Sean, don't bite my head off. I need it to, you know, live."

...

To be continued...

Notes

Glenn McCuen, who portrayed Sean Walcott, is a skilled gymnast. He's also an actor, a musician and a model.

Yes, Sean cries a lot. He's just lost his entire family, was stalked by a terrifying serial killer, killed an innocent man in blind hunger, kidnapped an innocent boy and threw him off a roof while fighting a Werewolf and was technically dead for several hours. He has a right to be emotionally screwed up.

I know Derek is way OOC here, but it's my story and he has to do what I say. He's still Grumpy Cat, he just feels a strong, protective bond with Sean due to their similar tragedies and wants him to have a better life than he did.

Sheriff Stilinski knows about supernatural creatures. He knows that Sean killed the deputy in the hospital, but believes it was under circumstances similar to Stiles' possession by Nogitsune and Jackson's transformation into a Kanima. Which is pretty much the truth. Obviously, he did not know that Sean survived The Mute's attack, because Stiles was too busy chasing Liam and Jordan didn't want to risk any leaks in the BHPD.


	7. Chapter 7

Survival

Chapter 7

Meet The Pack

...

Liam Dunbar looked at Sean Walcott like an injured bird looking at a hungry cat stalking his way.

Sean, for his part, was practically pleading with the boy for forgiveness, or, at least, understanding, "I'm so sorry. I really am. I lost control of myself, The Hunger took over. I didn't want you to be hurt."

"So that's why you threw me off the roof? So I wouldn't get hurt? And that deputy you told me about, I suppose you didn't want to hurt him, either."

"I DIDN'T! He was only trying to help me! To protect me from the monster that butchered my family and I killed him! Then I attacked the one person who had shown me the most kindness, Mrs. McCall. I would have killed her too if not for Scott. I probably would have killed you as well." He rubbed his eyes, they were red and a bit puffy from all the crying and lack of sleep, "It's like being a Werewolf, okay. If you're too weak, in too much pain to hold it back, The Wolf takes control and kills anyone around you, and all you can do is sit in your head screaming for it to stop! I was weak. I was so weak..."

Liam knew that much, after one night of being a Werewolf he knew the battle he'd have to fight with The Wolf for the rest of his life. If Scott and Derek hadn't stopped him, who knows what he might have done. Sean had just lost everything, his family had been brutally murdered, a serial killer freak was chasing him and he was starving.

Even knowing all that, it was hard to forgive, especially considering the consequences to his own life.

"Okay, okay. I just turned into a Werewolf a few hours ago, and it's just like you said. It's like I was watching a horror movie from the monster's point of view, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. But why didn't you just tell someone? Ask for help?"

Sean could have laughed, "Who would I tell? I'm a Wendigo. Everyone hates us. Everyone wants to kill us. We hide, we try so hard to be human, but we're not. Even if I told someone who actually understood things like Werewolves and Wendigo, they'd be more likely to throw me to that monster or put a bullet between my eyes. I'm a coward, Liam. I was too scared to tell anyone. One man died and you got turned into a Werewolf because I was afraid..."

"That's not true, you know." Melissa said soothingly, "When you came to Scott and Stiles, they accepted you as a Wendigo, took you in. I've forgiven you for attacking me and I don't care what you are. Neither does Derek, or Deaton or Officer Parrish. I know people fear what they don't understand, I have to admit, when I found out about Scott, I was afraid of him. But I saw who he really was, my son. A little hairier, but still my baby boy."

"MOM!" Scott groaned.

"And you're not a coward. You're just a scared kid whose lost everything and everyone that ever mattered to him. I believe you're a good person, Sean. The fact that you couldn't bring yourself to kill that horrible man in cold blood, even though you had every reason in the world to do so, shows that you're a good man. And you're not a coward, you're just a kid who's traumatized."

"You handled it better than I did." Derek added in, "And you certainly handled it better than Peter."

"Uh, guys? I'm still here, you know..." Liam looked around the room, "You said I'm pack now, so what does that mean?"

Derek actually smiled, "It means you're our new pack puppy. The adorable little pup everyone babies and protects."

"Like Hell I'm a cute little puppy!"

"Sorry pup, pack rules." Stiles joined in, "Do we still have those diapers from when Isaac was here? They'd look so adorable on _baby Liam_."

"I am not a baby!"

"He's such a cute little guy..." Stiles cooed.

Scott looked even more confused than usual, "Stiles, didn't you say that we should just 'kill the little bastard and throw his body in the lake'?"

Liam flashed his yellow eyes at Stiles, "First you talk about burying my body in a shallow grave, now you're just gonna' chuck me into the lake?"

"It was just a suggestion."

Sean shook his head in disgust.

"Don't look a me like that! You threw him off a building!"

"I was out of control, you're just a jerk."

"See, even the cannibal boy agrees with me." Liam said smugly.

...

As The McCall Pack, or, as Sean thought of them _The Scooby Doo Detective Agency_ , began to come over to properly meet Liam and himself, Sean was in a state of both wonder and fear. He really knew very few people outside of his family, and these were as diverse a group of people as you could get, Malia Hale, a Were-Coyote who was even more terrifying than the Hale men he'd met, Lydia Martin, a Banshee, and a wealthy one at that, if her clothes were any indication. She eyed him appreciatively as she took her seat. Brett, another boy from the lacrosse team, another Werewolf. Kira Yukimura, a Kitsune who Liam kept giving The Evil Eye for some reason and Liam's human friend Mason, who immediately started trying to get into Sean's pants and who Liam had invited without The Pack's knowledge, causing a bit of concern. Sean was nervous, would these people accept him? Or would they kill him or throw him into the streets? He knew he couldn't survive on the streets.

After talking with Liam a while, and assuring him he was pack, they turned their attention to him.

"So, what kind of super powers do Wendigo have?" Stiles asked.

Sean was hesitant, Wendigo were a private people, they had to be. But whoever or whatever was has behind this already knew everything about them, apparently, including individual names and families. If the enemy knew their secrets, there was no point in hiding the truth from his allies. He took a deep breath.

"I was never supposed to tell anyone. But... I couldn't save them, maybe," He swallowed hard, "Maybe I can make their deaths mean something. Wendigo is an Algonquin term, it means 'Evil Spirit', but we have other names in other countries. We were considered among The Unseelie Court in Scotland, where my family came from. Bogies, Hags... Bogeymen. We're not as impressive as people think. Our sense of smell is heightened, not as good as a Werewolf, but we can still follow a day-old track. We can see better, but our hearing's the same as an ordinary human. We're stronger, quicker and more agile than ordinary humans, and as you know, Scott, we can go toe-to-toe with an Alpha if we have to. We heal faster than humans, though not as fast as a Werewolf. If starving or under extreme stress we turn into blood-thirsty monsters with silver eyes and sharp teeth, two rows of them. We're immune to wolfsbane, otherwise we're painfully mortal. Most of us aren't that brave, we'd rather run than fight. Like me... Most people think Wendigo are snow creatures, but were not, we get cold just like everyone else. We don't like a lot of heat, though. And..." He took in a deep breath, "We need to eat human flesh to survive."

Mason suddenly stopped hitting on him and Lydia's eyes widened like saucers.

"We don't kill people... Well, most of us don't kill people, some do, but it's against our code. And we don't need human everyday, only about once or twice a month, unless a Wendigo is pregnant, then she needs more. If we don't get human flesh, we eventually go crazy, attack anything that moves and die. In the hospital, I hadn't eaten for a while, I don't like having to do it and try to hold off as much as I can. Then that mouthless guy killed my family, and between hunger, grief, my injuries and knowing that monster was coming for me next, I lost control."

"Is this the first time you've lost control?"

"To this degree. Like a Werewolf, I can get a bit crazy while dealing with stress. But I've never hurt anyone before, and I never want to hurt anyone again. I don't even know how to fight, I try to avoid conflict."

"What would happen if a Wendigo was bitten by a Werewolf?"

"Wendigo are immune to most diseases and infections, we have to be, with our diet. Our immune systems might fight it off, or die trying. I'd hate to find out what a Wendigo/Werewolf hybrid was like. Having to control both The Wendigo and The Wolf would be too much for most people, they'd end up as insane killing machines. That's my guess, anyway."

"What do you do for fun?" Lydia asked.

"Gymnastics. I also lift weights. David, my big brother, he always said gymnastics were for girls... Until he realized that I could bench press a lot more than he could." Sean smiled sadly, "He was kind of like Stiles, always the funny guy." He looked at Stiles, "The loud-mouthed jerk you wanted to punch in the mouth most of the time."

"Hey!"

"But I loved him. He was my Brother. They found him... The police found him in mom and dad's room. He must have heard the struggle and tried to help..." His voice cracked a little. He looked like he wanted to add something, but decided against it.

Everyone was looking at him, some with interest, some with sympathy, and one with lust. Seriously, what was with that Mason kid? Sean didn't see himself as particularly attractive. Apparently Mason and Lydia disagreed.

Finally, everyone decided to wait and see what would happen before they held a vote on bringing him into The Pack. Sean was stunned they even wanted him, they had more than enough in both muscle and brains. Scott insisted people like them had to stick together, and Sean had to agree that it would feel good to be a part of something, anything instead of being alone with his memories.

"There's one thing you have to remember, Sean." Scott said sternly, "We're not monsters. We don't kill people. Any people. If we find another hunter, we're not going to kill him."

"Or her. Women can be hunters too, you know." Lydia reminded him. His face fell slightly, and she realized that he was thinking of Allison. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up...'

"Not just humans, either," Scott continued, "Everyone. Wendigo, Banshee, rogue Werewolves, Garden Gnomes..."

Sean cocked a blond brow, "You run into a lot of Garden Gnomes in Beacon Hills?"

"You'd be surprised." Stiles replied.

"So, what, you just stick everyone who wants to kill you in a basement somewhere?" Sean asked in disbelief, "I don't want to kill either, I've always tried to keep it under control, to fight the blood-lust. I still have nightmares about that poor deputy. But some creatures can't be stopped with kind words and hugs, and the legal system can't, or won't, help us put people who kill monsters like us in jail."

"If they're not human, we take them to Eichen House."

"Or just let them waltz off with a warning, like Deucalion after he murdered Boyd and Erica." There was more than a hint of bitterness in Lydia's voice, "I can understand The Twins, Ethan defied Deucalion, put his own life at risk to help us, and we couldn't kill Aiden without destroying Ethan... Not that it mattered, in the end..."

Sean had no idea who Deucalion was, but he'd heard on the news about one of a pair of twins, Aiden Carver, being murdered with a katana of all things. If losing David hurt so much, losing your twin must be unbearable. "I saw that on TV. What happened to the other twin?"

"Ethan left, he had nothing left in Beacon Hill but bad memories."

 _I can understand that,_ Sean thought sadly. "Who's Deucalion?"

"He was a rival Alpha and a certifiable lunatic. He believed he was a god among wolves, or rather, a demon. The Wolf Demon. He had a whole pack of Alphas, including Ethan and Aiden. He had two of our friends kidnapped for months, then murdered them. Scott gave him a talking to and let him walk away free."

"It's a long story, and I'd rather finish explaining to Sean what we're about." Scott interrupted.

"How can you have a whole pack of Alphas? If those Twins and others followed him, wouldn't that make them technically Betas, or even Omegas?"

"They had all achieved Alpha status before joining the pack," Derek explained, "But Deucalion gave the orders. They were Alphas because they had all taken their position by killing their own packs, but not all Alphas were considered equal. Deucalion was the Alpha of Alphas. As hard as The Twins worked and as much blood as they shed to leave their miserable lot as Omegas and become Alphas, they were still just Omegas to The Alpha Pack. Deucalion threatened to kill Ethan's boyfriend Danny because he got to close to him, fell in love. The Twins just traded being bitches for their old pack to being bitches for Deucalion. To paraphrase Animal Farm, _All animals are equal, some are just more equal than others._ I was an Alpha too, until I learned that Scott was a True Alpha, literally born to lead."

Sean didn't know enough about Werewolves to remark on 'True Alphas', and he held his tongue about Scott's apparent lack of control of his pack and even more evident lack of common sense.

Scott growled slightly, getting everyone's attention. "Now if you don't mind. We don't kill. That's why Derek didn't want you to kill The Mute, and that's why Peter isn't truly pack, and one of the reasons we wouldn't let The Twins join The Pack... Sometimes I think that was a mistake. Maybe Aiden would have lived if we'd taken them in. But the point is, no matter how horrible the person is, we do not intentionally kill people, of any kind."

"We just let them go so they can kill again," Lydia said sharply, "Deucalion, Gerard... Peter."

Derek's expression remained unchanged at the mention of killing his uncle. Sean assumed there must be _serious_ bad blood between them .

...

The discussion soon turned to topics he knew little or nothing about, Pack business.

"We finally broke the code on The Mute's computer/voice machine. One of them, anyway." Lydia Martin looked concerned, "It's a list of names. Our names, including your's, Sean. Your family, too. Next to each name is a number. Each member of the Walcott family has a 250 beside them."

"A bounty?" Sean felt sick to his stomach, "Someone put a _bounty_ on my family?"

Stiles was curious, trying to solve the riddle as soon as his eyes met the page. "250, is that like, points in a game, or money?"

"I don't know." Lydia replied, "The girl that was murdered at the truck stop, Carrie Hudson, and the guy that was killed at my party, Demarco Montana, were both on the list. So is Meredith Walker, who I know to be a Banshee. Everyone on the list is a supernatural creature."

"What was my number?" Scott asked.

"25. I have print outs." She handed the print outs around, and Sean could only stare at the piece of paper in his shaking hands.

Sean Walcott 250

David Walcott 250

Michael Walcott 250

Christina Walcott 250

"How could someone put a price on our lives?" He asked, voice straining, "Why? What did we do to them?"

"Nothing, apparently, besides being Wendigo. Whoever this is wants to wipe out every non-human in Beacon Hills. Including you, Liam."

Sure enough, his name was right there,

Liam Dunbar 3.

"How the Hell could they possibly know you'd been bitten, Liam?"

"I only told Mason." Liam said defensively.

"And I didn't tell anyone." Mason added.

"Wait, Garrett was standing a few yards away while you were talking. He could have heard you and texted someone. People this powerful can probably tap into any phone they like. It could be the government, with all their NSA programs and spy tech... They might be monitoring us right now!" Stiles began hurriedly checking under the sofa cushions, the table, the lamp, in a potted plant.

"Stop that Stiles, you look like even more of a crackpot than usual." Malia face-palmed, "Why did I have to fall in love with a mini Jesse Ventura?"

"I'm in here too, guys." Brett noted.

Brett Talbot 1

"It's Gerard Argent, it has to be." Derek snarled suddenly, "That sadistic old bastard!"

Sean noticed another familiar name, "Patrick Clark... He's a Wendigo too. But he _hunts_ living prey. He was caught, and now he's in Eichen House." Sean said quietly. "He has a 1 beside him."

"Why are you a 250 and I'm only 25?" Scott asked.

Sean looked as if he had been struck by lightning. It was all so clear. "Because the amounts have been shortened. That's why I'm only worth 250 and Patrick is worth 1. He's a serial killer and I'm a nobody." Sean answered, "These are not two or three digit numbers, these are _five_ and _six_ digit numbers."

"Oh my God." Stiles saw it as well, "Then Sean is not $250.00, he's $250,000. So the single digits must be higher. $1 would be $1,000,000.! Scott, your bounty is $25 _million_!"

"Awesome!" Scott exclaimed happily, as if he'd won a prize.

Everybody in the room looked at Scott in horror.

Everyone except Sean.

Sean began mumbling, "My mom. My dad. My brother. Their lives were worth $250,000? The Mute was paid $250,000 to murder my family! That is _not_ awesome!" He stood up, trembling with rage, eyes silver and teeth beginning to show. The Wendigo was coming out for blood.

"Please, Sean, calm down!" Stiles had his hands up in front of him, "We're not the bad-guys here."

"That monster BUTCHERED my family for money! Our lives really meant nothing but a little cash!? With me it would have been a million! A million dollars for all our lives! HOW CAN ANYONE PUT A PRICE ON PEOPLE"S LIVES!" He screamed. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. To murder an innocent family, to torture him emotionally and delight in his suffering, all for money? Scraps of paper?

Liam and Mason were hiding behind a nearby couch while both Derek and Malia were ready to restrain the distraught young Wendigo. Derek put a hand on his shoulder as Stiles joined the other two terrified boys behind the couch. Sean turned, and Derek looked into the maddened face of the Wendigo. Glowing silver eyes, large, shark-like teeth in double rows. "Get a hold on yourself." Derek stared straight into those silver eyes, his voice commanding "No one here is your enemy. Whoever made up this list is your enemy. Now put The Wendigo away and save it for _The Benefactor_."

"What!?" Sean was caught between his Wendigo anger and his surprise. If someone else was involved in his family's murder... He clenched his fists and steadied his breathing, it wasn't like before. He was rested, fed and safe, The Wendigo was not as strong as it had been that awful night, and backed down before his human psyche. Sean's eyes flickered, then returned to their normal pale green, his teeth receded, leaving normal, healthy human teeth. " _Who's The Benefactor?_ " His voice was hoarse from the rage that still coursed through his veins.

"The person who put their name on this list." Derek pointed to a signature under the notice that had been sent to The Mute and God-only-knew how many other hunters. How many other murderers were out there, waiting? "I don't know who it is, exactly, but I intend to find out. Until this stops no one is safe."

Sean was breathing so heavily Derek feared he might have a panic attack, but gradually his breathing steadied as he concentrated on the strong hand grasping his shoulder, an anchor to reality.

"Yes." He said finally, slumping onto the now vacant couch, "This has to end. No more innocent people should die because of some sicko paying out money for death."

"Okay," Scott stood up, and as Alpha everyone turned to him for leadership, "Okay, we have a lot of work to do. I say we split up."

"Lydia, I want you and Kira to go to Eichen House and see if Meredith Walker knows anything. Banshee tend to know things. And warn that Patrick Clark guy to watch his back. Stiles and I will go to the police station and check up on recent murders, see how many more fit a hunter's pattern."

"It might be better for me to call Chris Argent in to look over the records," Stiles replied, "He's an actual hunter, after all. He'd know what to look for."

Sean was stunned, "You're allied with hunters?"

"Chris is different. He keeps The Code... I used to date his daughter, Allison, but she was killed fighting the same evil that killed Aiden." Scott said softly, showing Sean for the first time the pain that lurked behind his goofy facade. After a moment he spoke again. "You're right Stiles. He might even be able to find clues based on the killer's methods, or even identify them. You go with him, your the smartest guy I know. And while you're doing that, Malia and I will pay a visit to Gerard Argent. If he's behind this, Malia can get it out of him."

"Sean, we don't know who was working with The Mute, so you should still stay out of sight."

"I was thinking of taking him to another safe-house." Derek spoke up. "If it's alright with him. Since they're after you now, they could find out he's alive easily."

"Yeah, you do that."

"What about me?" Liam asked, concerned. His life was now worth $3 million dollars to anyone who took his head, and he liked his head attached to his shoulders.

"You and Mason... Go home and pretend like nothing happened."

"What?! Are you an idiot? What if an assassin comes after Liam?" Mason objected.

"Don't worry, I'm an Alpha, I'll handle it."

Derek unintentionally snorted, "Maybe I should ask Peter to keep an eye on Liam, discreetly, of course."

"Peter Hale wouldn't know discretion if it kicked him in the face." Melissa McCall spoke up, "We should let Sean stay here a little longer, and you can watch Liam. I'd offer to let you stay, Liam, but your parents would be worried and I'm not sure you're ready to share a house with Sean."

"I know I'm not ready to share a house with Sean. I mean, I understand why you did it, but I just can't be alone around you."

Sean nodded, "I understand."

"I could ask sheriff Stilinski to have patrols swing by your street from time to time, look for anything suspicious."

"I could go... Home." Sean said softly, "As long as someone came with me, to help... Clean up... Since I'm 'dead' no one should have any reason to come looking for me." Tactically it was a good idea, who'd look for a teenager in the same house his family had been slaughtered in not three days ago?

"Sean, honey, I'm not sure you're ready for that. Emotionally, at least. It's been less than a week." Melissa said gently, "At least let us clean up the... Blood and fix your window."

"I don't think I'll ever enter my parent's room again. I don't want to see where they died." Sean shuddered, betraying his unease.

Derek put a comforting arm around the boy's well-muscled shoulders, "Not yet. Just let us finish this and then we can get to work on your house, if you really decide you want to go back."

"I can't believe it." Stiles' voice was full of awe, "Sourwolf is being _nice?_ I haven't seen him try to comfort anybody since Isaac and the mess with his father..." His eyes narrowed with suspicion, "Who are you, and what have you done to Derek Hale? Are you one of those reptilian shape-shifters bent on global domination?"

Derek glared at him with burning eyes and growled deep in his chest, making everyone uneasy.

""Okay, stupid question. Stupid Stiles, you know me... No brain-mouth filter."

...

Violet sat in the van, waiting for Garrett to finish his 'business' with the trees.

"Hey, Violet, come look at this!"

"Why would I want to look at that pathetic little wiener of yours?"

"That's not what you said last night. But that's not what I want to show you. This is important, Violet."

Violet huffed and got out of the van, walking a short ways into the woods where Garrett was standing over something rank. She recognized the smell of death.

"A body? You dragged me out here for a body? And a rotting one at that?"

"Not just rotting babe, look."

Violet stepped closer. It was an ugly sight, a Werewolf attack, from the look of it. The dead man had been slashed apart.

"So?"

"The face!"

Violet looked at the face.

Then she smiled.

"Looks like The Mute botched a job." She didn't feel any sympathy for her fellow hunter. He was competition, after all.

"I guess he never had a mouth after all," Garrett kicked at the fused jawbones, "I wonder why he wasn't on The Deadpool? He was certainly a freak. Just like you baby."

Violet rolled her eyes, "Whatever. Let's go, I don't want his stench on my clothes."

Garrett was still looking around, "He didn't die here. Not enough blood. He was dumped."

"Who cares?"

"They didn't try to hide the body so they must have done it to clean up the kill site. Could be another professional. We're gonna' have to watch our backs."

Violet didn't really care who offed the old Slenderman wannabe, "It was probably Derek Hale. After axing that Walcott kid The Mouthless Wonder made it clear he wanted Hale."

"It was a tomahawk, not an axe." Garrett corrected.

"What an idiot, going around killing monsters with a tomahawk. Probably some inbred freak like on _The Hills Have Eyes_. It's amazing he made it this far with such crappy weapons."

"He was supposed to be one of the best. But somebody took him down like a little bitch."

"A little bitch? Now that you mention it, Garrett, he does remind me of you."

"Oh ha-ha. I still say we watch our backs. There are a lot of freaks around here, and we get caught, we end up like Mouthless here."

"Scared?"

"Just cautious, babe."

He pulled out a can of specialized chemicals to erase their scent, spraying everything, all the way to the van.

"C'mon, we got a couple of hairballs to bag."

"Why Violet, is that any way to talk about our good friend Liam?"

"He's 3 million dollars now. Sorry, but that's worth more than a casual acquaintance, though I did want to take his virginity." Violet smirked, "Maybe I'll let him die happy..."

Garrett just glared at her as they drove away, leaving The Mute to rot.

...

To Be continued...

Notes

I gave The Alpha Twins the same last name as their actors, Carver. Max and Charlie Carver.

Yes, I know Patrick Clark's name was on the third deciphered list, but it's my story. This is set before he escaped from Eichen House in canon.

Wendigo obviously do NOT have enhanced hearing. Sean didn't hear his family being chopped to pieces down the hall until someone screamed really loud, and Patrick didn't hear Deaton sneaking up behind him while he was playing with his food.

I sincerely hope Garrett and Violet are not brother and sister.

If you don't get the Jesse Ventura joke, he starred in a 'reality' show called ' _Conspiracy Theory_ ' where he investigated everything from 9/11 to the reptilian Lizard People hiding among us.

The Mute was, in my head, a human born with his jaw bones completely fused and covered with skin, not a supernatural creature. That's why he wasn't on The Deadpool.

When I refer to 'The Wendigo' or 'The Wolf' with a capital 'T' I'm referring to the animal portion of their nature.


	8. Chapter 8

Survival

Chapter 8

Moving

...

"I like it here Mrs. McCall, but I know you're having money troubles and I don't want to add to them."

"But if you move back into your house, how will you live? Taxes, electricity, water, food is insanely expensive now, and with how much you have to eat... Do you even know how to do your taxes?"

Sean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "No. My parents always worked on the taxes. I know it will be difficult, but as long as I can keep the electricity going to the freezer I can rough it. There's the life insurance, and my parents had money..."

"I'm still not sure, and a boy your age shouldn't be living alone. Especially now, with the panic attacks and night terrors."

"Life has never been fair to me, Mrs. McCall. I was born a Wendigo and need to eat human flesh to survive, my family was murdered, I went on a rampage and killed an innocent man and I was stabbed in the back and left for dead. I'm an orphan now, depending on charity. Trying to stay sane."

Mrs. McCall turned to the boy. How was so young to have such burdens put upon his shoulders. And he was ill-prepared for the real world. not to mention one important detail,, "Sean, I haven't brought it up yet, but the coroner thinks you're dead and they intend to bury your family. I can ask the sheriff to convince the coroner to wait, but eventually you are going to have three funerals to plan, or one for three people. And, because you're supposed to be dead, they might add you into the funeral, complete with headstone."

Sean reeled a bit. He'd known that there would be a funeral, and nothing, not even The Deadpool, was going to stop him from going. But as the last Walcott, how much of the responsibility of planning the service, the burials, even choosing the caskets and headstones was on him? What about cremation? His parents had money, yes, but he might not be able to touch it as they didn't expect themselves, and certainly not David, to die so young. Sean was still a minor. What was he going to do? He couldn't leave them frozen in the morgue forever, he couldn't just abandon the bodies as he had that night when The Mute...

"Sean? Sean are you alright?" Sean looked at Melissa McCall's concerned face, "You were breathing like that again, like you were about to have a panic attack."

"I... I hadn't thought about it." He said with a shamed expression, "With everything going on. I don't know anything about planning a funeral, much less handling the burial of my whole family. I don't know what to do."

"My friends and I can help with the arrangements, but I don't know if we could raise the money."

"I'll get the money, somehow."

"We'll help where we can." Melissa assured him, but grew grave again, "It's also dangerous. Once you're seen, once everyone knows you're alive, you'll be a target again."

"I _know_ that!" He snapped angrily, then hung his head, shocked at his own outburst. "I'm sorry. Out of everyone, you and Derek have been the kindest to me. I just can't handle this. That's one reason I need to go with Derek, or go back home. If The Wendigo comes out again, I could really hurt you, and that's the last thing on earth I want to do."

She was briefly taken aback. Sean was a sweet, polite boy, but he was also a physically strong young man and a Wendigo. It was easy to forget this in the face of his vulnerability and sincere, kind nature. Any boy his age and size was physically capable of overpowering most people, and he had supernatural strength to back it up. But he was still a boy, a boy who was hurting. Even after he attacked her in the hospital, after the shock and horror of seeing what he was capable of, she knew that he had a good heart. It was his Wendigo that was to be feared.

As she was silent for a few seconds, Sean was terrified. Had he gone to far? Had he hurt her feelings?

"It's alright, Sean. I know you don't want to hurt anyone, if you did, I'd have called the police the moment I saw you." She smiled, "And I can defend myself, you know. I know how to fight supernatural creatures, what to use."

He sighed in relief and gave a crooked smile, "Only if you have Mountain Ash or silver weapons close-by."

"You'd be surprised."

"I wish I knew what to do."

"Hopefully this will all clear up in a little while and you can 'come back from the dead' and start putting your life back together."

Sean smiled at that.

...

"This is so _Silence of The Lambs_."

Lydia and Kira stood in front of the padded room holding a dark-haired young man in a straitjacket. He was smiling, his unusually large eyes glowing silver.

"You're the first visitors I've had. Care to stay for dinner?"

"That is the lamest, most cliche cannibal introduction I've ever heard." Lydia replied.

Patrick Clark just shrugged. He was in here for life, and the staff, while cautious, took good care of him.

Except that one orderly, Brunski. How he wanted to sink his teeth into that scum, tear out his throat and feast on his flesh.

"To what do I owe the honor?"

"The Walcott family was murdered four days ago. Killed by a hunter with a list of bounties. Your name was on that list."

The Wendigo's eyes widened, he was speechless for a moment.

"Why?" He said, finally. "Why them?"

"Because they were Wendigo, as far as we could tell. The killer met with an... Accident." Officer Parrish replied.

Patrick's eyes narrowed, "How do you know about us?"

"Sean Walcott managed to escape the house, but he was tracked down and murdered at the hospital. He told us everything, after we found his family freezer."

"Why didn't you fools put him in protective custody?" Patrick hissed.

"He was badly injured and needed medical help. The sheriff stationed a deputy outside his room. The officer was killed too."

"By the hunter, or by Sean?"

"That doesn't really matter, dead is dead." Parrish replied, "I'm not going to lie to you, I haven't shed a tear over that bounty hunter. Sean was a good kid, he didn't deserve being stabbed in the back like that."

A look of anger crossed the Wendigo's face, but he said nothing.

"He told us to warn you that someone was killing non-humans before he was murdered."

"But you said the killer was dead!" They could see fear in Patrick's eyes.

"He is. But the list was apparently sent to every hunter and psycho in the country."

Patrick gave a nervous laugh, "So, how much does a Wendigo go for?"

"Each member of the Walcott family had the same bounty, $250,000."

Patrick suddenly lept up, an incredible feat without the use of his arms, "Wendigo are social creatures, among our own kind. We are few, so we watch out for one another. That is why Sean asked you to warn me. And some dog valued his life at $250,000?"

Parrish leaned in, almost whispering so that none of the staff or orderlies could hear, "Your's is $1 million. Probably because you're a serial killer instead of an innocent kid."

"The Walcott's had their way, but I go with the old ways. I don't sit around waiting for people to drop before I eat. I'm a predator, not a serial killer. No different from a lion, or a crocodile. It is our place in the natural scheme of things."

"You wouldn't have to sit around Beacon Hills for long before finding a body." Malia remarked casually.

"Or becoming one." A voice came from behind them, "I thought you wanted to see the Walker woman, not this trash."

"Is something bothering you, Brunski? Or are you just looking for someone to beat up?" Officer Parrish turned and looked the orderly in the eye. He knew the man, and he was a bully, probably a borderline sociopath. They'd met more than once in the line of duty.

"You might belong here, Parrish, in a cage with the other freaks, but outside the cell you're not wanted." He looked at the girls, "Any of you."

"That's funny, I was about to suggest the same of you." Lydia was more than a little put-off.

Brunski ignored her, "What do you want with Walker? She's... _Busy_ and can't be disturbed." He laughed, "Well, she's already _disturbed_ , isn't she?"

"How did you get a job working with sick people? Perhaps a forged resume?"

Brunski paled slightly, "My resume is perfectly legitimate!"

"So are all those overdue parking tickets you have." Parrish countered.

"Alright. No need to go professional on me, 'officer'. I'll take you to Walker." He turned toward Patrick, who was now huddled in a far corner, "And don't let him fool you." He turned to the girls, "He eats pretty little girls for breakfast." He laughed again.

"God, he's even more cliche than Patrick. I'm surprised he doesn't have a thin little mustache to twirl." Lydia whispered to Malia.

"I don't like him. He has the eyes of a predator. A killer." She whispered loudly enough that Brunski could hear. He laughed again.

...

Meredith Walker looked like Hell. Rail-thin and a short shock of hair, dressed in an over-sized inmate uniform, she sat there, staring.

"Satisfied?"

"Hardly."

Lydia walked over to speak with Meredith as Parrish and Malia double-teamed Brunski.

After a few minutes of mainly bickering, Meredith said something they couldn't make out.

Then everyone fell to the ground as the mad Banshee screamed.

...

Liam Dunbar was bored. Beyond bored. He was a Werewolf, with all kinds of powers and his pack didn't even trust him to walk outside without getting killed.

 _Pack puppy my little white ass._

When his cell phone went off, he tripped over his discarded Nikes to reach it, face-planting on the floor.

It was Garrett.

"Hey, Liam. You home man?"

"Unfortunately." He sighed, "Everyone been treating me like I'm a baby since that mess at the hospital, with that Walcott kid and the deputy being murdered. It's like everybody's suddenly gone crazy, like some monster will get me if I step foot outside."

"Man, that sucks! How would you like to escape for a little while."

"How?"

"Hello? _Bedroom window?_ I thought you were a delinquent, and you don't even know how to sneak out of your house?" Garrett laughed.

"It's a bit of a drop." Liam said defensively, "After that scare with my ankle, I'm not sure I can make it."

"Scared of heights now, Liam? Okay, maybe you can sneak out a window on the _ground_ floor, unless you're grounded to your playpen."

"You're a douche Garrett, you know that?"

"I'm just trying to help. After you escape Alcatraz come down to the road, the forest one near your house. We shouldn't be seen from there. Then we'll go cruising,maybe pick up a chick for you..."

"Okay, when?"

"As soon as you can get here."

"I'll be right out."

"See ya then."

Garrett closed his phone and looked at Violet, "Like stealing candy from a dumb, temperamental baby."

"Forbidden fruit, works every time." Violet smiled, "Maybe I should give him a ride before we off him. He is cute."

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

...

"I think Brunski's behind it." Lydia said.

"WHAT?" Malia shouted, a little blood still visible in her ears.

"I THINK WE SHOULD DISCUSS THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE!" Lydia shouted back.

Everyone on the street was staring at them, a few had crossed to other side of the road.

...

Garrett smiled broadly as Liam walked toward the van.

"Man, am I glad to see you. I was about to go nuts."

"I don't doubt it." Garrett stepped closer to Liam, "Is Mason with you?"

"I wish."

"Good." Still smiling, Garrett plunged a knife into the other boy's stomach.

Liam looked down in pain and horror at the blood flowing from him. Something was burning it's way through his body, sapping his strength when he needed it the most.

"Why?" Liam fell to his knees, staring up at his smiling 'friend'.

"Because, I'm gonna' use Baby Wolf to catch an Alpha. Then The Orphans will be recognized as the best hunters out there." He grinned, "That pain you feel, that burning, is Wolfsbane."

Liam fell to the ground and tried to curl up into a ball, but Garrett easily began to pull him to the van.

"Violet, a little help here, he's heavier than he looks."

Violet stepped out of the bushes and grabbed Liam's shoes, and together they lifted him easily into the back of the van.

Violet stroked his face gently, looking into those beautiful, pleading blue eyes.

"You could have at least waited until I shagged him."

"What can I say? I'm the jealous type."

The van door slammed shut on the helpless, crying boy.

...

The McCall residence

"So, did Meredith say that Brunski was The Benefactor?"

"No, she just said that The Benefactor had some kind of hold on her, and that she was afraid. And I can't read another Banshee's mind."

"That doesn't make any sense, how could this Brunski know about my family and that girl at the truck stop? And where would an orderly at an insane asylum get the kind of money The Benefactor is paying out?" Sean asked.

"Who knows? He may have a secret account somewhere."

"It's easy to steal money with the technology we have," Stiles added, "You can hack into any online bank account and drain it dry, if you know how. Not that I would do something like that."

"I looked into his mind, all I saw was hatred and death." Lydia explained, "Patrick believes he is naturally entitled to killing and eating humans. He's a superior being, and humans are cattle." She turned to Sean, "And he was very upset to hear about your family, especially you." She turned back to the others, "But Brunski, he's not that kind of killer. He's a different kind of crazy altogether. Like I said, there was no method, no attempts at justification, just an overwhelming desire to kill."

"Unfortunately, I can't have him arrested just because a Banshee says she read his mind and he wants to kill people. I'd be laughed out of court, even in Beacon Hills." Parrish frowned, "But I can keep an eye on him, at least, when he's not at work."

Parrish's phone went off, and he picked it up.

"It's John." He sighed, "Probably another killing."

"Hello, John?"

Jordan Parrish lept from his seat, eyes wide.

"Yeah, I'll be right there." He turned to the assembled group, "They just found Meredith Walker dead."

...

To be continued...

Notes

Obviously, this is non-canon, so don't work out the way they did on the show. If they did, it wouldn't be fanfiction.

I have the same problem with Sean's eyes as I do with Berzerker's eyes from X-Men : Evolution, the bio says they're blue, but my eyes say their green. So their green.


	9. Chapter 9

Survival

9

Searching

...

Scott McCall looked down at his ringing phone, it was Liam.

"Liam, what is it?"

A cold, mechanical voice answered,

"Sorry, poor Liam's a bit, well, _dying_ right now. And your little puppy is just desperate to see you."

"Who the Hell is this?! What have you done to Liam?"

"Don't worry, your pup will be fine, _if_ you hand yourself over to us before the wolfsbane kills him. Come to the abandoned sawmill on Richards, in the forest. And come alone."

"How will Liam get help if you take me and leave him alone?"

"Showing a spark of intelligence? How unlike you, McCall. My partner will drop him off somewhere in town once I give the signal. Somebody's bound to notice a boy dying in the street, this isn't Washington D.C. or New York City..."

"I'll come, just let me talk to Liam."

There was a rustling sound, and a muffled groan of pain.

"He's not looking too good. He's one sick puppy, you better get here fast."

The caller hung up.

Scott grabbed the keys and raced toward his mom's car.

...

"Hook, line and sinker." Garrett was pleased with himself.

"What about this mangy wolf cub?"

Garrett looked at the sick, terrified boy for a moment, "I have an idea."

...

"I'm afraid you can't go in." Officer Parrish stood at the gates of Eichen House with several other officers combing the area. There were cruisers and flashing lights everywhere.

"Why not?" Malia asked.

"Because someone else is dead..." Lydia's eyes seemed focused somewhere else, " _Brunski_. Patrick Clark broke out during the confusion and killed him. They haven't found him yet."

Parrish nodded, "I certainly hope he was The Benefactor, for all of our sakes. Having Patrick on the loose is bad enough. You know what Wendigo are capable of. It would be best if you leave, now. I'll walk you to your car."

"I think we can defend ourselves better than you can."

"You're probably right, Malia. But if something does happen, it'd be my butt on the line. I'm the police officer here..."

"How did Meredith die?" Lydia asked.

"Hanging. That's what the orderly who found her said. They're calling it a suicide, but I think that's pretty unlikely." Parrish looked at her for a moment, "You can't tell how she died with your powers?"

"No. I sense nothing about her. It's strange..."

...

Scott pulled into the old saw mill. It was a rotting relic of the former timber industry in the early 1900's, a place kids sometimes went to hang out. It had been abandoned not long after being built as loggers kept disappearing while working in the forest.

Scott fairly jumped out of the car, "Liam! Liam!" He shouted frantically.

A figure stepped forward, but it wasn't Liam.

"Garrett? What are you doing here? You have to get-"

Garrett pulled out a very large gun, "Stow it, McCall. I'm a hunter. And you're worth $25 million. Now, are you going to this the easy way, or the really easy way?"

Scott was in shock, "Garrett... You're what, 15?"

"I'm old enough to know better, and still too young to care. And I've got a gun with silver bullets laced with wolfsbane. I think that's old enough. When I killed that stupid Werewolf chick at the truck stop... You should have seen the look on her face. She couldn't believe it either."

Scott growled, his body began to change.

Garrett was unimpressed. "I can put a dozen rounds in you before you get anywhere near me."

"What did you do with Liam? Where is he? The signal-"

"There is no signal you idiot. He's worth $3 million." He laughed, "Did you honestly think I was going to let him go?"

"Please, Garrett, you have me. I'm worth more than you could ever spend. Let Liam go, he's just a kid."

"Yeah, shame he won't get to grow up."

A strong hand suddenly gripped around Garrett's throat, while another knocked the gun from his hands. Scott looked in a mixture of awe and fear as Garrett hopelessly struggled to get free of the powerful Wendigo who now held him in a bear hug.

"Sean, what the Hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your stupid hide, McCall." The Wendigo was out, silver eyes glaring hungrily at the young assassin as he turned him to look him in the eyes. "Where's Liam?"

Garrett's eyes widened, "Sean? _Sean Walcott?_ You're dead!"

"Really, I must have missed that call. Now where is he?"

"You stupid Wendigo! You're going to be with your family in Hell when The Benefactor hears-"

Sean grabbed his right arm and twisted it until he heard a snap and Garrett screamed in agony, "Now _, WHERE. IS. LIAM.?_ "

"Sean! Don't kill him!" Scott called.

"I think I can chew off his face and leave him alive." He ran his tongue over his massive teeth, "Not much of a life, though. Where is Liam?"

Garrett was pale and shaking, the pain and fear were too much for him. He released his bladder as Sean moved his massive teeth closer to his face.

"HE'S IN A WELL! WE THREW HIM IN A WELL!" Garrett started sobbing. "Please don't kill me... Please! Don't let him kill me!"

"Take us there, now!"

"I'll do it, I'll do anything, just don't kill me, please!"

Scott noticed Stiles standing nearby, which explained how Sean was able to get there, at least. "How did you know?"

"With you screaming about not hurting Liam on the phone? It was pretty obvious, I just didn't expect the kidnapper to be a baby himself."

"He has a partner." Scott warned.

"I know." Derek's voice came from inside the mill. He came out carrying Garrett's girlfriend, Violet. She was out cold and trussed up like a turkey.

"VIOLET!" Garrett screamed.

"I'd worry about my own ass if I were you. If Liam's dead, you two are going to wish you'd never been born." Stiles could be menacing, when he wanted to be.

...

"HELP ME! SOMEBODY PLEASE! HELP ME!" Liam screamed at the top of his lungs. Between the freezing, filthy water, the blood loss and the wolfsbane, he knew he couldn't last much longer. In desperation he embraced The Wolf, letting out a long, mournful call for help.

"Liam! Are you alright?" It was Scott's voice. Scott, Stiles and Sean appeared at the well's mouth, and a rope with a tied end was quickly lowered, "Slip your arms under the rope, we'll pull you out.

As he slipped on the rope, Liam couldn't help but notice that Sean was in Wendigo form. He didn't really care who saved him, as long as they pulled him out of this soaking, freezing Hell.

"G-Garrett. I-It was Garrett a-and Violet-t."

"The cold's catching up to him, hypothermia, probably." Sean whispered, but Liam could hear him regardless.

"We've got ambulances on the way." Scott said as the trio finally pulled the soaked boy from the well and lay him on the grass.

"My God." Sean said, pulling up Liam's shirt to expose the poisoned wound. It was relatively small, but horribly inflamed and still bleeding

"T-they... G-Garrett-t st-tabbed me."

Scott wrapped his arms around Liam and began taking his pain as Sean stalked over to where Derek was standing guard over the two assassins in Stiles' jeep. Both were now bound, but Garrett's arm had been placed in a sling from the jeep's emergency medical kit. An undeserved mercy, Sean thought after seeing Liam's wound. Garrett was barely conscious and Violet was bound and gagged. The Wendigo placed his transformed face centimeters from the cowering pair and snapped his teeth loudly. Garrett finally fainted and Violet screamed though her gag.

"We can't take Liam to the hospital, they won't know what to do, we have to get him to Deaton." Scott bundled Liam into the back seat of his mother's car while Stiles tossed the keys to the jeep to Derek, "Take care of my baby, Sourwolf, or I'll have your head mounted on my wall!" Stiles jumped into the driver's seat while Scott rode in the back with Liam.

"You'd better put your pretty-boy face back on, Sean, I hear sirens." Derek watched as the Wendigo transformed back into the handsome, if pissed off, Sean Walcott. Sean gave Violet a final, silver glare right as the police and ambulances showed up.

...

BHPD headquarters

"How did you become like this? A kid your age?"

Violet ignored sheriff Stilinski completely, looking toward the camera in the interrogation room, wondering who was watching on the other end. She was handcuffed and shackled, they weren't taking any chances with a hunter, no matter how young she was.

"We know you killed, or at least cut the hand off of, Carrie Hudson, and decapitated Demarco Montana. Your little shoe prints were found all around both crime scenes. You and Garrett will almost certainly be charged as adults. This is not child's play, this is premeditated murder! And what you did to Liam? Your _friend_ Liam? Don't you feel _anything_ at all?"

Still nothing.

"Garrett's arm is broken in two places, does that interest you, either?"

Violet finally responded, smiling, "Sean Walcott is alive. The Mute failed. And when The Benefactor finds out, his bounty will go through the roof." She looked at the camera and laughed coldly, "You should have stayed dead, Sean."

"Who is The Benefactor?"

Again, nothing.

...

"As they're underage, we can't do much with either of them. I'll try to get them held as adults, but their lawyers, and they _do_ have lawyers, may try for bail, or removal to a juvenile facility."

Derek gave a low growl, and Sean just shook his head.

Stilinski looked at the young Wendigo, "Why did you go, Sean? Why take the risk?"

"Because we didn't have time to gather everyone, and Stiles wouldn't have been able to take a kidnapper on."

"You don't know Stiles very well, but I'm grateful for your concern." The sheriff rubbed the bridge of his nose, "You saved the day, but unfortunately as soon as word gets out, and it _will_ get out-"

"I'm back on The Deadpool." Sean smiled. "It was worth it. After all I put Liam through, I owe him a Hell of a lot more than this."

"I have more bad news," At the moment, John Stilinski was seriously considering quitting and moving to a nice, peaceful small town in Florida, "Patrick Clark, the serial killer, escaped his cell and killed an orderly during the chaos after Meredith Walker was found dead. Killed and partially _ate_ him." He shot a look at Sean, "They haven't caught him yet. And to top it all of, Mrs. Walker's body is missing." He shook his head, "I hate to do this kid, especially after you saved Liam, and probably Scott's lives. But I have to ask you, Are you whatever Patrick Clark is, and if you are, _what_ are you?"

" _Wendigo_. I'm a Wendigo. We have to eat human flesh at certain intervals to survive. My family always used stolen or unclaimed bodies. When I was in the hospital, the fear and stress and fact that I hadn't eaten human flesh in nearly a month drove me over the edge, let The Wendigo take over. Patrick Clark is a Wendigo, but he's insane and believes that we're superior to humans and have the right to hunt them like animals." He sucked in a lung-full of air, "Now I have to ask _you_ a question, sheriff, which orderly was killed?"

"A guy named Brunski. Been in and out of trouble with the law for years."

Derek sat up at this, "Brunski? He's the one Lydia thought was The Benefactor."

"I hope to God she was right." Sean's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Do you have any idea what he might do now? What would a Wendigo in his position do?"

"If he were sane, leave town and go into hiding someplace safe. But he's not sane, and I have no idea what he'll do. Most likely he'll find an abandoned restaurant or meat packing plant, something with a large freezer that works, and start stocking up."

"At least that narrows it down some..." He looked the boy in the eye, "Did your family have a large freezer in your house?"

"I don't think he'd go there."

"That's not an answer." His face grew grave, "Are there bodies in a freezer at your house? Human bodies?"

"You and your men searched my house, Mr. Stilinski. A freezer full of human bodies would be hard to hide."

"Forget it, Sean. You have to eat, I can't order you to starve yourself to death, and I wouldn't want to. As long as you stick with the dead and don't start killing innocent people, I won't bother you." The sheriff decided to let it go. If there was such a freezer at the Walcott house, it was unlikely Sean had killed any of the corpses within, and the boy had no choice but to eat human flesh to survive. He hated the thought of it, but dealing with these situations in Beacon Hills was becoming something far beyond the law. He'd watched Peter Hale murder a man (or whatever The Mute was) not three feet from him, and not only did he just let him walk away, he helped dispose of the body and clean up the crime scene. His son was deeply involved in this supernatural stuff, and he couldn't open one gate without bringing a flood upon himself, his son and probably more than half the town.

"Thank you, sir." Sean said in a sincere and grateful tone, "Thank you so much..."

"For what? We never found any sign of any freezer full of bodies..."

"C'mon, we've had enough good news for one night." Derek said, getting up, "We need to check up on Liam and get Stiles 'baby' back to him before he kills me. I mean, if you're done here, sheriff."

"I wish I was done, but I'll deal with it, go check up on Dunbar, give him my best wishes, and tell Stiles and Scott I expect them to come in here tomorrow and give full statements about these baby-faced monsters."

"Will do."

...

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Survival

10

Recovery

...

"So, how's our favorite pound puppy?"

Liam groaned, "I've been better."

Stiles smiled and patted Liam on the head, "Hey, Deaton, think you can neuter him for us?"

Liam flashed his yellow eyes and growled at Stiles.

"This is the thanks I get for saving your life? Better give him a rabies shot, too."

There was a knock at the back door.

"It's Derek and Sean." Scott scented them instantly.

Deaton opened the door and let the pair in.

"How is he?" Sean asked.

"Cranky." Deaton replied flatly.

"I guess it's pick on the kid who just got stabbed, kidnapped and thrown in a well day..." Liam muttered.

Scott ruffled Liam's hair, then scratched behind his ears.

"I need to talk to Sean. Alone. And that includes you, Stiles." Liam said sternly.

Stiles shook his head, "Kids these days have no respect."

As the group filtered out of the recovery room, Sean came and sat beside Liam.

"I'm glad you're alright." He smiled.

Big blue eyes met light green, "Why'd you do it? You were safe. Everyone thought you were dead, but you took on Garrett and Violet for me. Now everybody's gonna' know."

"Do you think I'd let you be wasted by a pair of snot-nosed kids? I'm offended." He looked tired, but resolved, "I can't spend the rest of my life hiding. I've been hiding all my life, and my family was murdered anyway." He grinned, "Besides, I'm saving you for for Thanksgiving Dinner, so put some meat on those drumsticks." He looked at the bandages on Liam's stomach, "Wolfsbane really does a number on you guys, doesn't it?"

"It'll heal pretty quick, now that Deaton cleaned it out." He turned to Sean, "I heard you broke Garrett's arm to get him to talk." There was no judgment in his voice either way.

"We didn't have time to play games with that loser and his bimbo girlfriend. I normally wouldn't even consider breaking someone's arm, especially a kid..." He looked down at his hands a little sadly, "I did what I had to do to find you." He sighed, "Scott mentioned it?"

"He wasn't happy. But, then again, he broke my ankle to keep me from taking his place as team captain, so he's not one to talk." Liam settled back, "It's funny, when I looked up and saw you in Wendigo form, I wasn't scared of you. Probably the hypothermia and blood loss, but I was happy to see you."

"Did... Did either of them say anything about The Benefactor?"

"No. Mostly they talked about getting Scott. Though Violet did mention wanting to rape me a few times. I always thought she was creepy... They did mention the money, but not The Benefactor."

"How long have you known these kids?"

"About a month or so. I thought they were cool." He moved his hand over his stomach, "What's going to happen to them?"

"That depends on the law. They've committed at least two murders, that we know of, and stabbed, kidnapped and tried to kill you. The sheriff said they were going to press to have them charged as adults, but they have money and lawyers. Of course, that won't help them against the Argents. They, The Mute and any other bounty hunters in Beacon Hill are in the Argent's territory. I don't know Chris Argent, but from what I've heard he's a good man. I doubt he'll take them out in the woods and shoot them if they get off, but he'll probably find a way to keep them off our backs."

"Sean. I... _Thanks_. Thank you. You saved my life. You came out and saved me, even though you knew that it would put you right back in the bull's eye. I can't _not_ forgive you after that. For what it's worth, I intend to vote on making you pack."

Sean smiled at the thought of belonging, at the idea of being part of a pack. A family.

Liam looked him in the eyes, "You keep saying you're a coward. But you're wrong. Your one of the bravest guys I've ever met. I don't think I could live with half of what you've been through."

"I bet you say that to all the guys who help save your scrawny butt when you get into trouble."

"I'm not scrawny, _Jaws_."

"'Jaws'... I like that. You can be 'Wolf Cub' and I can be 'Jaws'."

Liam rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Anyways, thank you."

"It's what we're supposed to do, right, look out for each other? Besides, it wasn't just me, Scott went out alone to hand himself over in exchange for you, Derek made sure Violet wouldn't put any bullets in our backs, and Stiles... He, well, he drove."

...

Malia was stunned, "I can't believe that Garrett and Violet are cold-blooded killers. I would have suspected Greenberg before Violet."

"That's just being sexist," Stiles couldn't resist throwing the charge the strongly feminist Malia often threw at him, "Just because she's a girl doesn't mean she's not capable of being pure evil. I think we all learned that from Kate. And Kali. And Jennifer..."

Malia gave him a glare that showed she did not approve of the irony.

"How do we know Greenberg's not some kind of evil criminal mastermind?"

"What is it with blaming Greenberg today? I've known him since we were toddlers. He's a kiss-up, but he's not a trouble-maker." Scott objected.

"I was using him as an example of someone I would NOT expect to be a bloodthirsty killer." Malia clarified, "Though sometimes I think he may be some kind of supernatural brown-noser."

A light flashed in Brett's eyes, "The game. When somebody cut me with a stick laced with wolfsbane... It was Garrett, it had to be. He was almost right beside me during that play..." He growled, revealing his fangs. "That filthy, stinking little traitor. He's lucky it was Sean and not me who caught him."

"You're right. Who else could it have been?"

"Greenberg." Malia quipped.

"Just shut up about Greenberg, alright."

"I think Scott has a crush." Stiles grinned, only to shrink back as Scott growled.

"We also have something very important to talk about." Derek reminded them, "The whole pack's here, so we might as well do it now."

...

Sean was standing in the kennel, watching the animals Deaton had treated for various injuries and ailments as they waited for their owners to come pick them up. He was, of course, a cat person himself, but he liked animals in general. They didn't judge him, not for his actions, not for his race. They just wanted to be taken in and loved.

He knew the feeling.

He heard footsteps and the door behind him opened. He could recognize Scott's scent, even through the confusion of a kennel.

"Sean, I need to talk to you."

Sean groaned, Liam had warned him this was coming.

"About Garrett?" It wasn't really a question. He turned to face Scott.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful. You saved Liam's life, and most likely mine as well. But you scared _me_ out there. It was like the hospital again, only instead of Liam it was Garrett. When you snapped his arm like that, and he screamed and started crying and begging..." He trailed off.

"I'm not proud of myself, if that's what you think. I'm proud I helped find Liam and stop those two, but I didn't get any kind of joy or thrill from breaking a fifteen-year-boy's arm and watching him piss himself in fear. I couldn't waste time, Liam was dying and Garrett wouldn't talk."

"Or maybe you just didn't like what he said."

Sean's eyes narrowed, silver replacing light green, "Excuse me?" His voice was laced with a mixture of disbelief and rage.

"What he said, about seeing your family in Hell, right before you broke his arm."

"What would you have done, if he'd said the same about _Allison_?" Sean was really, really trying to keep it together. Physically he was a match for Scott, but he honestly was not a fighter, and attacking the Alpha might break all of the friendships he'd made, the first friends he'd had in a long, long time. People he genuinely cared about, and who cared about him. And Scott had taken him in, helped him when he needed it the most. But still, The Wendigo wanted to rip this fool to shreds.

Scott paled at the name, and looked away guiltily, "What I'm trying to say is, we don't kill people, but we don't torture them either."

He could hear Sean's heartbeat increasing, his breathing becoming heavier. He was struggling with The Wendigo. This was not what Scott had wanted. He knew he'd gone too far. Finally, Sean spoke.

"Garrett's arm will heal, assuming The Benefactor or someone else doesn't kill him first. If Liam had died, he wouldn't heal from that. Werewolves don't go into a near-death state to heal. He would have been dead. And he wouldn't have woken up like I did. I was too rough with Garrett, I agree, but we found Liam, and he'll live. I don't intend of making a habit of hurting kids to get information, in fact, when all this dies down I'm probably going to have even more nightmares." His eyes flickered for a moment, and he smiled thinly, almost cruelly, and looked Scott directly in the eyes. The Wendigo had a message for this pompous idiot as well. "And, at least I didn't hurt him out of jealousy, like _you_ did with Liam. If not for you breaking his ankle so that you could stay team captain, none of this would have happened. You ruined a young boy's life over a stupid lacrosse position. What does that make _you_ , Mr. True Alpha?"

Those words cut Scott to the bone like the teeth of a Wendigo. Not as much as he had hurt Sean, but it hurt because it was the _truth_. He _had_ been jealous of Liam's natural skill, he'd tried to put him in his place, and when that hadn't worked he'd used his Werewolf powers to show him up. He hadn't meant to injure the boy, just humble him a bit. But he had. He lived with the knowledge, every day, that if he hadn't been so jealous, none of the suffering Liam had to endure since that awful night at the hospital would have ever happened. He had truly ruined Liam's life over a stupid game...

Derek walked into the room before Scott could respond, "Liam's ready to go home now. What are you going to tell his parents?"

"That he fell down a hole." Scott said dully. He was still processing Sean's words.

"Scott, did you tell Sean the good news before going all high-and-mighty on him?"

"Tell me what?"

"We took a vote. You're Pack now. It was _almost_ unanimous." He shot Scott a telling look.

"I... I," Sean didn't know what to say. He had a family now, a pack. They could never replace his parents and David, but they were family! "I'm honored. Thank you." Was all he could manage to say.

Derek smiled at him, really smiled. He walked over and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Welcome to family, kid." He wasn't prepared for the crushing huge bear hug he received in return.

Man, that kid was strong.

The rest of The Pack poured in, happily embracing their newest member. Sean had never been hugged by so many people in his life. His anger faded, though the pain of McCall's words remained. He decided that he would enjoy this moment, and that Scott McCall could go screw himself.

Derek turned and glared at Scott, who was standing several feet away, watching. "We need to talk later. Alone."

The Alpha just nodded. Scott might be Alpha, but he usually deferred to Derek when the older man had reason to question him.

...

"He broke that kid's arm!"

"That 'kid' was about to shoot you dead and leave Liam to die a slow death alone in a cold, dark well."

"He could have persuaded him some other way." Scott persisted.

Derek sighed, _Why out of everyone in Beacon Hills did this idiot have to be The True Alpha? Why couldn't Peter have bitten Stiles instead?_.

"Listen, I was at the police station while they interrogated Violet. She didn't say anything except that Sean was going to be worth a lot more on The Deadpool once The Benefactor found out he was alive. She's a kid, but she's cold as ice. She didn't even ask about Garrett. 'Persuading' him would have taken time, probably days, and Liam wouldn't have lasted the night."

"We have to have standards!"

"You dragging out _Sean's murdered family_ , was that high enough standards for you? If Sean was as vicious as you want to paint him, he'd have torn you open for that and eaten your heart. _I_ was tempted to tear you apart for being such a bastard as to stoop that low." Derek's eyes were glowing now, "I know this is your pack, but if you antagonize them enough, they _will_ eventually turn on you. No king reigns forever, McCall, remember that." He began to walk toward the kennel.

"Is that a threat, Derek?"

Derek turned to look at him, "Just a warning, McCall. If you mistreat your pack, you don't deserve to lead. You'd be no better than Deucalion."

...

To be continued...

Notes

Since this is a story about Sean, major events for other characters will be in the background, and sometimes merely mentioned.


	11. Chapter 11

Survival

Chapter 11

Fallout

...

In the evidence room at the BHPD headquarters two cell phones bleeped momentarily, the encoded message left unanswered, as both owners were currently in cells.

It was an updated Deadpool list.

The one change:

Sean Walcott 2

...

The drive back to the McCall house was awkward, to say the least, with neither boy speaking for several moments.

Sean finally decided to break the silence, "Scott, I'm sorry about what I said, but you shouldn't have said that about my family."

"I already heard it from Derek." Scott's voice was terse.

"But, I'm pack now, and you're Alpha. We need to work this out. You saved my life Scott. You took me in when most people in your position would have attacked me on sight, considering what I did. We're friends. I don't want to damage that because of stupid words and hurt pride."

"Do you know why I didn't vote you for pack, Sean?"

Sean lowered his head, "Because you don't think I have enough self-control. You think I'm an unknown factor that could turn out dangerous, and you think it's too soon."

"Yeah."

"I'm trying Scott! God knows I'm trying. I've never been around other people for so long, everything is so new to me. I don't know how to act around Werewolves, Banshees and Stiles, whatever he is. I'm not used to life-or-death situations, making judgement calls..."

"We're here." Scott said, getting out of the car.

Mrs. McCall was standing in the front yard, and rushed to hug her son, "I'm so glad you're okay. And you boys found Liam!"

Sean could feel the pain tugging at his heart. He'd always been a bit embarrassed when his mother hugged him. Now he would give anything for that gentle embrace. Suddenly, someone did have their arms around him. Melissa McCall was hugging him as well.

"I'm so proud of both you boys. Sean, I heard you saved Scott's life. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost him. You're both heroes, even if the world will never get to know it."

Without thinking his arms had slid around Mrs. McCall, hugging her tightly as tears began to trickle down his cheeks.

...

Garrett sat in his cell, brooding. As soon as the cast on his arm had been set, they'd taken him to the county jail. They hadn't even let him see Violet. His lawyers were skeptical of their chances, told him the Sheriff had convinced the DA to try him as an adult. There was overwhelming evidence against them. And Chris Argent had also paid him a visit, letting him know in no uncertain terms that the Argent's would punish the pair if they escaped legal prosecution. Probably an empty threat, designed to scare him, but with a Sheriff so ingrained in the supernatural community, it was a possibility.

Sean Walcott, alive and well. That was a kick in the pants. And a pain in the arm. If he got the chance, he'd have to repay Sean for that.

He couldn't believe he'd pissed himself! He'd never been so humiliated in his life! At least Violet had been unconscious at the time, though she probably smelled it on him when they were forced to lead the beasts to their precious puppy.

The Sheriff had tried to talk to him, threatened him with adult prison. It was a frightening prospect, he was strong for his age and could fight well one-on-one, but he was very handsome, and he knew what happened to good-looking boys like him in prison. He wouldn't be able to fight off a bunch of adult men who wanted his young, relatively small body... Some of the other prisoners at the jail had made catcalls and filthy remarks as he was brought in, increasing his fears. One of the 'kind' officers had gone into great and sadistic detail about what he'd have to do to survive prison, what he'd seen happen to other attractive young inmates. He whimpered softly, not wanting the guards to hear.

He'd said nothing to anyone, of course. He honestly didn't know who The Benefactor was, neither did Violet. And he wasn't about to confess to any more killings. No use digging his own grave.

There had to be a way out of this, there had to...

...

Melissa McCall looked down at the youth in her living room with concern, "Is something wrong between you and Scott?"

Sean was sitting on the floor, playing with Willow. He looked up, a bit of sadness in his eyes, "Things... Got out of hand." He didn't know how much to tell her, how she would react. Would she be as angry as Scott? On the face of it, he'd done a terrible thing, but Garrett was not an ordinary, innocent boy. He was a murderer, and was trying to kill both Liam and Scott.

As usual, Sean chose to tell the truth. He inhaled deeply, "You know that Garrett and Violet kidnapped Liam?"

"Yes."

"When we caught them, Garrett wouldn't tell us where Liam was, he just said that I would be joining my family in Hell. So I broke his arm." His tone was flat, but from his eyes she could see hints of guilt and pain.

Melissa was shocked. Sean wasn't a violent kid. What Garrett had said and done was horrible... But, still...

His voice was low but clear, "Scott called me out on it after we rescued Liam. He was angry, said I'd tortured him. I said it was because we didn't have time, that Liam was dying somewhere and we needed to find him. He said it was because of what Garrett said about my family." His eyes turned to the floor, "That _was_ part of it. But it hurt me to hear him say that. Scott, I mean. And the way he said it. It just tore into me. So I told him that it was ALL his fault, if he hadn't been jealous of Liam and roughed him up, broke his ankle, he'd never have been at the hospital, I'd never have taken him hostage, and he wouldn't have been bit. If he wasn't a Werewolf, no one would be after him. I said that Scott ruined Liam's life because he didn't want to give up being captain of the lacrosse team."

Melissa tried to take it all in, whatever you could say about Sean Walcott, he was honest about his own failings.

"I apologized on the way home, but he just said that he didn't want me as pack because I don't have self-control. Maybe he's right. We haven't spoken since."

"I... I'm glad you're honest about it, Sean. All I can say is, you're both right, and you're both wrong. You might have been able to intimidate Garrett into talking without using violence, but it's a moot point now. The damage is done. As for what he said about your family... I know you're a very sensitive boy, Sean and you're trying hard to hold back your anger, or else you would have attacked Scott when he said those cruel things. He was wrong to drag your family into the situation, even if his motives were good, to try and prevent violence unless absolutely necessary. As for what you said to him, it's true. Scott knows it's true, he's known it ever since he had to bite Liam-"

"Because I threw Liam off the roof and was fighting Scott, it was the only way he could save him from falling..."

"True, but you were technically insane at the time, Scott and Stiles were just being petty, jealous and childish. Scott may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can put two and two together. He knows that what happened to Liam was his fault, and he has to live with the guilt of that. Ever since it happened I've had several talks with him, trying to keep him from outright depression."

"Depression? I... I didn't know." Sean's eyes were wide and sincere, "I just wanted to hurt him after he brought up my family like that, so I hit the one thing I knew that he'd screwed up on. But I didn't know he was that sensitive. He's a good person, Mrs. McCall, he took me, an orphaned, homeless Wendigo who had attacked him and his mother, murdered a police officer and nearly killed an innocent boy, and gave me shelter, comfort and hope. Both of you risked your lives hiding me from The Mute. He was one of my first friends, ever." He held Willow close, "And now we aren't even speaking because of an argument that went over the line. I don't want that, and I don't want to hurt either of you. I just don't know how to fix it."

She sat on the floor across from him, "You said you were trying to apologize. If you're still willing, and it sounds like you are, wait until he cools down and try again. If he doesn't want to talk to you, or you're worried about talking with him, I'll talk to him. Like you said, Scott is a forgiving person, he's stubborn sometimes, but forgiving." She reached out and ran her hand across Willow's fur, "If he can forgive you attacking me and Liam, even though it wasn't your fault, he can forgive this. just give it a little time." She looked into his soft green eyes, "But I have to ask you, how do you feel about having broken that boy's arm?"

"Like a monster. Rationally, I know that it helped save Liam's life. I know he wouldn't have talked easily, because I was there when the sheriff interrogated Violet, she was cold as ice, all she would say was that I was going back on The Deadpool, and I was going to die." He shrugged his shoulders, as if in defeat, "I also know that I let what Garrett said to me cloud my judgement, I was already furious that Liam's life was in danger from someone he thought was his friend, but that was the last straw. Now I have to live with the fact that, in addition to all of the other horrible things I've done, I broke a fifteen year-old kid's arm, on purpose. I was just so angry that I didn't care."

"But you do care now. A monster, a real, psychological monster, feels no remorse for what they've done, some even keep 'trophies' or video so they can relive their crime over and over again. You feel remorse, it eats at you, even when things aren't your fault, you're a good kid, but you're just a kid. We all make mistakes, but if you're young and have superpowers, those mistakes can be pretty impressive."

"You have no idea how often I've wished I was human. Just a normal guy, with a normal life."

Since neither had enhanced hearing, they were both unaware that Scott McCall was listening to every word from the top of the stairs.

...

Sean lay back in his bed, awake and staring at the ceiling. Sleep was not kind to him, filled with dark dreams and darker memories. Sometimes he wondered why he survived. Why not David? David was better with people, he knew how to interact with others, how to take care of himself. No. No, he wouldn't want David to suffer as he had, thrown alone and unprepared into a cruel world where his family was dead, murdered, and bounty hunters seemed to lurk around every corner, just waiting for him.

He looked down at Willow, who had curled comfortably onto his bare abs, which kind of tickled, "What do you think, Willow? Do you think there's some reason, some deeper meaning why I'm still here, besides being able to run fast and heal quickly?"

"Meow."

"That's what I thought. Never discuss metaphysics with a cat" He smiled.

There was a knock at the door, he could tell by the scent it was Scott. He reluctantly lifted Willow off of him and set her on the bed, then walked over to open the door.

"Scott?"

"Sean."

The both stood awkwardly for a moment, "I'd say come in, but it's your house, so I can't really tell you where to go."

Sean was wearing a pair of gray sweat pants, leaving his upper body and feet bare. It was clear the boy worked out quite a bit. Scott was wearing blue jeans and a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt that had clearly seen better days.

"I..." Scott looked nervous, "I heard you talking to mom."

Sean didn't know how to respond to that.

"Listen, I know we have our differences, but I think we both want the same thing. I want to protect Beacon Hills and everyone in it, human, Werewolf, Wendigo, everyone, from threats like The Benefactor and The Mute. I know you care about people too, after what you did for Liam, and how you were worried about Patrick. We're going to have to help catch him, you know."

"I know. He's insane, Wendigo or not. I'll help however I can. Besides, he may be safer in Eichen House, though after what happened to that Banshee woman..."

"Yeah. But right now it's not about them, or even The Benefactor. It's about _us_."

"Uh, Scott, look, you're a good-looking guy, I guess, but I'm straight. Just because I'm a gymnast doesn't mean-"

"That's not what I meant," Scott laughed quietly, not wanting to wake his mother, "I mean us as a team, a pack, _a family_. I believe that you're a good addition to The Pack. I won't go into why I didn't vote for you, but as Alpha I could have vetoed everyone. I didn't veto because I know you're not a monster. I just thought you needed more time to adjust, get yourself together after all the horrible things that have happened to you before you took on that responsibility." His eyes shifted guiltily, "I know I shouldn't have brought up your family, but sometimes I say things that are, well, stupid. I wanted to tell you that we try to avoid hurting anyone whenever possible, but it somehow spun out of control. I'm not sorry for calling you out on Garrett, because I believe, I truly believe there is a better way. But I went about it like an ass, and I know I hurt you badly. I thought about what you said, and you are right. You're pack now, and as Alpha it's my job to guide you and help you, not make you feel like dirt or degrade you. If a pack can't trust their Alpha to look after them, who can they trust? And we are friends."

Sean's face showed visible relief. "Thank you. I was afraid you'd have me thrown out."

"No! I wouldn't do that."

"I'm sorry too. I wanted to hurt you after what you said, in fact, The Wendigo wanted to kill you. But I couldn't do that, you saved my life, you gave me a home, hope and comfort when I needed it the most. So I chose to use words. But I didn't know how much it would hurt you. I wanted to make you feel guilty, but not depressed. Not something lasting. I didn't mean to cut that deep."

"I know. I just want to put this behind us. We can't work as a pack if we can't work together as individuals."

"You're right. _A house divided against itself cannot stand_."

"Abraham Lincoln?"

"Lincoln was actually quoting Jesus." Sean informed him, "Matthew 12:25"

"I did't know that."

"When you live like we did, you read a lot of books."

"Speaking of books, what are you going to do about school? I know you were home-schooled, but that obviously isn't an option, now."

Sean rubbed his arms nervously, "I guess I have to go to public school. But I don't know how to do it. All of those people... I'm not good with crowds. Or even small groups. And meeting new people."

"Relax. There are some jerks at Beacon Hills High, though they went down a bit after their king, Jackson, left town. I have friends you might like to meet, like Danny Mahealani, he's nice to everybody, but I better warn you beforehand he's gay and thinks you're hot."

"So does Mason, apparently."

"Most of the other guys on team consider my friends their friends, Greenberg can be an annoying little creep, but he's not so bad... There are people to avoid, and we'll all be looking out for you until you get settled. I don't know if we have a gymnastics team or not, but we have a gym with weightlifting equipment you can use. You might even find something else you like to do, maybe, track and field, football or lacrosse."

"No thank you on football. I have no desire to have my brains scrambled or my neck broken just to chase a ball around. And I don't want to risk anything that's too aggressive, and not just for my own sake. If The Wendigo comes out during a game..."

"I know I should have said this last night, especially as Alpha, but Welcome to The Pack."

"You know, Scott, I've heard you tell some of the others that The Bite is a gift. Maybe it is. I can tell you, The Wendigo is a _curse_. No people will accept us, only human flesh can truly sustain us and we must hide what we are from birth until we die. If we are found, we are killed. We can only trust each other. I've finally found people who accept me, people who don't care what I am, good people. You can't imagine what even being friends with you means to me, much less being _pack_. I've already lost my family, I can't let this slip away."

"No one wants that."

"So, does this make me the new pack puppy?"

"Nope, Liam's still the youngest, so he gets that title and all the honor/teasing that goes with it."

"Where, where does that put me? I mean, I'm not a wolf, in fact, I'm more of a cat-person actually..."

"I don't have Omegas, so you'll be a Beta."

"Thank you. I've heard Omegas have it rough."

"We all do, even True Alphas." He shrugged, "That's part of life. Well, I don't want to keep you and Willow up, so good night."

"Good night, Scott. And thank you, for everything."

...

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Survival

12

Breakdown

...

Sean stared at his name in disbelief. He'd known he'd be back on The Deadpool, but $1 million dollars? Who cared enough, or rather, hated him enough, to pay a million dollars to have him killed? Maybe having survived The Mute and The Orphans, he was considered a more challenging hunt. The thought did not comfort him.

"So, I think this confirms Brunski was not The Benefactor."

Brett noticed something too. Sean didn't know Brett Talbot very well, but he seemed nice enough. "Guys, Did anyone notice who's _NOT_ on the list? And who _shouldn't_ be?"

"Is this a riddle?" Stiles asked.

"No, look closely. Sean's bounty has been raised, so it's been updated since the fight with Garrett and Violet, but Meredith Walker's name is still on the list. If she died three days ago..."

"She wouldn't be on the list!" Sean finished, "She, or someone else, could have faked her death."

"Now, wait a minute, maybe it was a typo. Maybe they just forgot to take the name off."

"People like this don't make typos," Derek replied, "And I know who's missing from the list. In fact, I know him very well. _Peter Hale_."

There was silence for a moment as everyone who knew Peter Hale considered the possibility. Peter was a murderer, but there seemed no motive for this.

"It seems like someone who was bumping off, I mean, murdering, innocent people like the Walcotts would put a crazy, homicidal Werewolf who happens to be a Hale on The Deadpool," Stiles said gravely, "And Peter killed The Mute. Sean's price went up when he defeated The Orphans, but Peter killed a hunter, and his name still isn't on there."

Scott turned to Derek, a serious expression on his face, "Derek, who manages your family accounts?"

"You think _Peter_ is The Benefactor? That's..." He wanted to say crazy, but he knew Peter was insane. After all, he'd killed Laura. But he'd changed, hadn't he? "Why? Why would he pay to have the Walcotts or that girl from the truck stop killed? He didn't even know them. Or most of the others on the list... And how could he find out about things so quickly, I haven't talked to him since he killed The Mute. He's been off in the woods somewhere."

"He couldn't know. But a Banshee could." Lydia's eyes widened in horror, "If Meredith Walker is not dead, and she can see into the minds of others, she could easily find every non-human in Beacon Hills."

"But her name's on the list."

"She's insane. She may not care, or she may have put it there to throw us off. She might even have released Patrick to give herself cover to escape."

"Oh my God." Derek slapped himself in the forehead, "The only time I saw Peter in Eichen House, when he was in a coma not long after the fire, there was a Banshee woman in the room next to his!"

"If Meredith was sitting there, trapped, absorbing all of Peter's subconscious thoughts, his hatred, his rage, his madness, for years..." Lydia shuddered.

"We have to find Meredith Walker." Scott's tone was a finality, there was no question. This woman HAD to be found, for the sake of everyone in Beacon Hills.

Sean just sat there in silence, gripping the print-out in a white-knuckled hand. If this was true, then his family had been murdered by a lunatic's dreams. There was no reason behind the tragedy, only madness.

"Where would she get money, if she's been in Eichen House for years?" Liam asked.

"If she was in Peter's mind, it would be easy enough to get into his banking account."

Derek picked up a nearby tablet, not caring whose it was, and quickly went to the Hale family bank account. He paled as he saw massive withdrawals over the past month... He looked at Sean, pale, shaking and robbed of everything he had ever known. Derek's heart sank in his chest, this boy's family's murderer had been rewarded using using the Hale family fortune.

No one spoke. They all knew from Derek's unusual, horrified expression what had happened.

"Sean." His voice was tremulous, something no one outside of his family or Kate had ever heard before, "Sean, I am _so_ sorry."

"Don't be." Sean's voice was cold as ice, " It wasn't your doing. The money was either stolen, or used by your uncle. I don't care whose money it was. All I care about is finding The Benefactor, Meredith, Peter, whoever it is. And then I'm going to rip them apart, slowly and painfully. I know you don't agree, Scott, but it was my family, my life that was destroyed. I tried to take the high road with The Mute... I don't think I can do it now."

Derek walked over and put a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. It always seemed to soothe him, the physical contact. But the Sean Walcott he was seeing now was different than before. He'd seen him as a timid, gentle and shy boy, grief-stricken and lost, he'd seen him in blind, mindless rage, he'd seen him angry, but fairly controlled. Right now he reeked of killer intent. He meant every word he said. He had no idea what to say.

"Meredith will get what's coming to her, Sean. We'll find her."

"And put her back in a cozy little room at Eichen? She wrote The Deadpool from Eichen House. I don't know how, maybe she had someone do it for her." He looked into Derek's eyes, and his eyes were pure silver, "She's too dangerous to live. I think we both know that. I think we _all_ know that."

"And after The Wendigo is gone, what will _you_ feel, Sean?"

"I'm not sure if I care anymore."

"But _I_ do. I care about you Sean, we all care about you. You've never intentionally taken a life, I have. All the hate, all the rage, once it fades you're left with an emptiness that can never be filled. No matter how much we think that person deserves to die, it will still affect us, it will still haunt us. It will hurt you, and it will hurt all of us as well, because we'll see you hurting and know there's not a damn thing we can do about it."

Sean was clearly struggling. His parents, his brother, they were good, peaceful people. They wouldn't want him to become a cold-blooded killer. It was true that he had killed a man, that deputy, and God, did he regret that, even though it was outside of his control, how much more-so an intentional murder? The Benefactor deserved to be punished, but was it his right? If it truly was Meredith Walker, and she was as insane as he had been in the hospital, could she even be considered responsible for her actions? Did she even know what she was doing? What was he supposed to do?

He didn't notice his breath becoming sharper, his body tensing, the tears in his eyes, all he felt was confusion and fear. Voices surrounded him, calm, soothing voices, and something strong wrapped around him as he began to hyperventilate.

...

It was rare that Stiles saw a panic attack happen to someone else. He had them, and he wouldn't wish them on anyone. It was bizarre to see Derek holding Sean in his arms, trying to calm him, he would have laughed at the Sourwolf's expression had it not been such a grim moment. He was grateful that Sean's panic attacks were not violent, because a terrified, maddened Wendigo would be more than a match for many members of The Pack, himself very much included. Brett and Liam were pale and clearly worried, they probably had never seen something like this happen, and even Stiles had to admit it was disturbing. Seeing Sean like this really hit home why they _had_ to find The Benefactor, before she ruined any more lives.

As he watched, he suddenly felt the urge to kill the bitch himself.

...

Derek held on tight to the trembling boy, who seemed to not even notice his presence, whispering what he hoped were comforting words in his ears. He wasn't a psychologist by any means, but he knew that Sean needed help. Medication could help the panic attacks, counseling could help him come to grip with his loss. But right now all that mattered was keeping him steady and safe. The boy's heart sounded as if it would explode, his eyes were wide but unfocused.

"Stiles, call Deaton. Tell him what's happening. Now!"

...

Sean Walcott lay in bed, eyes red and puffy from crying, face red with shame at having broken down so completely in front of The Pack.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sean. In fact, I'd be worried if you _didn't_ have some kind of emotional trauma after everything you've been through." Deaton set down a small bottle of pills, "Keep these with you, if you notice yourself becoming overanxious or unusually angry, take one. But if you do, you wont be able to drive and will become drowsy, so call someone to get you if you're alone. Try not to be alone, at least, not in public places with crowds, like the mall."

He nodded as Willow jumped back onto his chest and curled up onto his abdomen. He was already drowsy. He felt like Hell, they finally had a solid lead on The Benefactor, on he was on his back instead of helping track her down. But he was no use to anyone in this state.

"Sean, do you think you might need to, well, _feed?_ Would that help your mental condition?" Deaton was uncomfortable with the idea of his patient consuming human flesh, but he understood that it was a biological need the Wendigo could not deny.

"No. I mean, I just fed under a week ago. I can go a good three weeks before the hunger sets in."

"Do you have a... _Supply?_ "

"Yes."

Deaton didn't ask him to elaborate.

"I never had panic attacks before... Before The Mute."

"I don't doubt it. As I said, your reactions are perfectly natural, considering the circumstances." He paused, "Dr. McCall told me you have been having night terrors."

"Yes. It's terrible. Some nights I don't sleep at all, I just lie here."

"I'll try to help you with that as well, but I'm not a psychologist. You may need to see a-"

But Sean was already asleep.

...

"Will he be alright?" Scott's words carried the nervous atmosphere of the entire pack.

"Alright is a relative term. He'll live, he's not in any physical danger, but emotionally, he's in bad shape. He's sleeping now, so I wouldn't disturb him, he needs rest. All you can do for now is make sure he takes his medications and try to avoid causing him any unnecessary stress. Keep him away from large groups of people, and try not to worry him about The Benefactor. If you make any new discoveries or theories, don't discuss them with him unless absolutely necessary. And don't mention The Death Note."

"I think you mean Deadpool."

"I don't care what you call it, don't discuss it around Sean. Once it's relatively safe for him to be seen in public I want him to get therapy, I know you probably can't afford it, but I'd be willing to pay."

"No, Deaton." Derek's voice was soft, laced with bitterness, guilt and grief, "I'll pay. It's the least I can do, the least the Hale family can do."

Deaton nodded respectfully.

"Do you think he might have to go to Eichen House?" Liam asked.

"I hope not, but if he doesn't improve, it would be the best for all involved. In his fragile state, he could pose a threat to himself or others."

Everyone looked devastated by that statement.

"Either way, he desperately needs therapy. And he needs to know that he's safe, and that he's wanted. He's afraid of disappointing you, but he wants to avenge his family. He's confused and scared and is trying to find the right path, to do the right thing. He wants to be a good person..."

"He is." Melissa McCall said, her voice trembling with emotion, "He just can't see it."

As Deaton moved to leave he turned to face Scott, "We are both men of peace, Scott. But after this, I wouldn't be particularly saddened if The Benefactor did not survive."

...

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Survival

Chapter 13

Patrick

...

"No!" Melissa McCall had her arms crossed and a 'don't mess with me' look on her face. She was in full mother-bear mode, "You heard Alan. We need to keep Sean as safe and stress-free as possible."

"Who's Alan?" Liam asked.

"Deaton. Alan Deaton." Stiles answered, "Look, Mrs. McCall, if Sean comes, he can probably talk this guy into giving up without a fight, or at least, shock him so much by being alive that he's ready to run back to Eichen House on his own. He's the best chance of avoiding a fight we have."

"Mom, Patrick Clark is a serial killer, but he's also a Wendigo. He said it himself, Wendigo look out for each other. Once he gets over the shock, Sean should be able to reason with him." Scott spoke earnestly, "And if it does come to a fight, Liam and Brett can get him out before it gets too intense."

Melissa McCall looked at the two boys. Boys, _children_. Brett was tall and both were muscular, but they were both still children. "Can you handle him? What if he has another panic attack and The Wendigo comes out?"

"I hate this as much as you do, Mrs. McCall," Derek said, "But we need to capture Patrick Clark, and we don't want any bloodshed. I'll be there, if something goes wrong, I'll take care of Sean."

Melissa pondered this for a moment. Derek was probably the pack member who was the most protective of Sean. It was unlike Derek to show emotion, but he displayed concern, sadness and even a little joy when around the young Wendigo. Perhaps because they had both lost their families to hunters at such a young age. She knew she could trust Derek with Sean.

"I can go." Sean's voice came from the doorway behind them. He was dressed in a a jean jacket, black t-shirt and blue jeans, and was wearing his sneakers. He was dressed and ready to go. "I'm part of The Pack now. Patrick has to be taken in, if there's a chance he'll listen to me, I have to help."

...

Patrick Clark carried a large bag towards the walk-in freezer of the abandoned slaughterhouse. The bag was clearly occupied, as something within was moving frantically and making muffled noises.

"Don't feel bad, it's nothing personal. You are prey and I am a predator. It has always been this way, the way nature intended." Patrick dropped the bag roughly and began searching for his key.

"Patrick."

Patrick turned in a flash, his face morphing, massive teeth bared, silver eyes glaring.

He saw a handsome, dark blond-haired boy standing a few yards away, his light green eyes betraying no fear. His jaw dropped in shock as he recognized the boy.

"Sean? Sean Walcott?"

Sean flashed his silver eyes.

Patrick started to tremble. "How? I thought you were dead."

"I was in a state of hibernation. They assumed I was dead. I woke up naked in the morgue." He swallowed hard, "My family was there. They... They _didn't_ wake up. I've been in hiding ever since."

"I'm sorry about your family, they were good people." Patrick said sadly as the person in the bag, hearing a new, possibly sympathetic voice, began struggling harder and making as much noise as possible. "I'm glad you survived."

"Thank you." Sean paused for a moment, "But, I didn't come here just to see you. You have to come back to Eichen House."

Patrick laughed, "Why? I'm free to hunt! Free, do you understand what that means boy?"

"That means you're killing innocent people. That also means that it will be easier for any bounty hunter to make $1 million dollars off your head."

"Eichen House isn't safe, look what happened to poor Brunski? I got out and I ate him."

There was a muffled scream from the bag.

"I, _WE_ , are natural predators. You're on your own now, Sean. You can't live off of whatever's left in your basement forever. You have to learn to hunt to survive. These creatures, these cattle, would gladly kill us all, just like they killed your family. Come with me, I can teach you. I can teach you how to survive."

"I can't. I can't disgrace my family's memory by becoming a hunter."

Patrick gave him a pitying look. Sean did his best to ignore it.

"Patrick, did Meredith Walker let you out of your cell?"

"No. Brunski did. It's funny. He looked like he wasn't all there, kept talking to himself, arguing, almost."

"Do you know what happened to Meredith Walker's body?"

"I didn't even know she was dead until I saw the papers. What happened to her b-" He took a deep breath, and shuddered "Sean, why do you smell like _wolves?_ "

"Before I... Died, I was fighting an Alpha Werewolf. He offered to help me, but I was too far gone to listen. After I woke up and fed, I remembered him, his offer of help. He and his pack have kept me safe, they helped track down the monster who killed my family... They made me pack."

Patrick's large eyes widened even more, "You were bitten?" He began to notice other scents in the slaughterhouse. More wolves...

"No. They just accepted me for who I am."

Patrick began to look around in terror, four, five at least. "Werewolves! You led Werewolves to me?"

"They won't hurt you. They don't want to hurt you. Neither do I. Just let the human go, and come with us peacefully." Sean walked closer and moved toward the bag, "No one needs to fight today, Patrick. No one needs to die." He unzipped the bag, revealing a young woman bound with duct tape. "It's alright, nobody will hurt you." his voice was calm and soothing. "Either of you."

A dark haired boy of perhaps seventeen lept down from some machinery. He was a wolf, the scent was unmistakable. "Sean's right. We don't want violence, and I'll bet you don't either." His eyes flashed Alpha red.

Several others came out, mostly kids, he noted, though one was in his mid twenties. The older Werewolf went over to Sean and started helping unbind his captive. Patrick was trembling, too scared to move. He saw the two girls who had visited him Eichen House, one smelled of Werewolf, but slightly different, the other of Banshee.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_?

Another young man approached, a deputy, he had his gun drawn, and his scent was unidentifiable. "Patrick Clark, I'm placing you under arrest. Up against the wall."

"He's crazy!" The girl started babbling, "He's some kind of monster and he said he was going to eat me!"

"You're safe now." Sean said, helping her up.

"What are you? Those things you said..."

"You're better off not knowing. I'm just an orphan, trying to survive."

Even with the shock and horror of what had happened, she couldn't help but notice that both young men helping her were _extremely_ attractive. A teenage, angelic-looking blond boy and a slightly older dangerous-but-sexy bad-boy type brunette. If they had met anywhere else, she'd have suggested a three-some...

She looked at the blond, she knew his voice from his bizarre confrontation with the lunatic who was now cowering like a beaten dog, "Your name's Sean, right? That's what he called you."

"Yeah, that's me." He turned to look as Officer Parrish handcuffed Patrick while reading him his rights. He heard sirens, and turned, "Should we go before the police get here?"

"No." Derek said, "The sheriff will want to talk with us. He knows, most of the department knows." He turned to the girl, "I'm Derek, what's your name?"

"Misty."

Sean got up and walked over to Patrick, leaving Derek to talk to Misty.

He saw the keys to both the slaughterhouse and the freezer lying on the ground. He was thinking of picking them up for Officer Parrish, but realized that could be considered disturbing a crime scene, maybe even tampering with evidence. So he left them where they fell, wondering just how many bodies the police would find when they searched the freezer.

"I'm sorry, Patrick. I just couldn't let you keep killing people." Sean put a hand on the man's shoulder, he was terrified, his scent was thick with fear, "You've been in Eichen House for years, you probably have friends there. The cops'll probably just do some paperwork and send you home in a few hours, at most."

Jordan Parrish nodded, "That's the idea."

"You'll be fine. I'll ride with you, if you want, and if Officer Parrish agrees."

"You'd have to ask the sheriff about that, but you can come down to the station. I mean, you'll be needed there anyway, to get your statement." He looked at Sean, "Didn't Deaton say you should be in bed?"

"No. He just said I should avoid stress."

"I hope you brought your medicine, then, because the paperwork is far more stressful than the actual crime fighting."

...

Sean watched as they strapped Patrick onto a gurney to take him back to Eichen House, and loaded him into an ambulance. He wasn't family and wasn't allowed to go with him, though he'd assured him he'd visit. Part of him felt like a traitor for leading the police to a fellow Wendigo, but he knew that if he hadn't Misty would be dead and she wouldn't have been the last. As they pulled away he turned and rejoined the rest of The Pack as they awaited their turn at being interviewed. He'd already called Mrs. McCall, explaining that he and Scott were fine and nothing had happened.

It was nice having someone who worried about him.

Everyone turned to the door as a tall, attractive dark-skinned young man, some kind of Polynesian by the look of him, entered carrying a gym bag.

"Danny? Is something wrong?" Scott asked, sounding genuinely worried.

"That depends on your point of view, I guess." Danny smiled oddly and set the bag on the nearest desk. "Coach told me to clean out Garrett's locker. I found this." He opened the bag and stacks of bills fell out, probably enough money to buy a new car.

Sheriff Stilinski walked over, stunned by the find, "You found _this_ in Garrett's locker?"

"Yes sir." His usual smile faded, "After hearing that he was an assassin, I think I know where this money came from. I didn't even count it. I want nothing to do with it."

Stilinski nodded solemnly, this was _blood money_. This was the pay Garrett, and possibly Violet, had received from the murders of Carrie Hudson and Demarco Montana, and probably others they didn't know about. Just another nail in their respective coffins.

"Thank you, Mahealani. A lot of people would have just taken the money and run, even knowing what it was used for."

Danny smiled shyly and shrugged, "I guess I'm not most people. Do I have to give a statement or something."

"You already have." Stilinski smiled as Danny turned and walked toward his friends, only to stop short and stare at the beautiful, muscular blond god sitting next to Derek Hale.

Sean recognized the expression. "It was a mistake. I woke up in the morgue, but I'm 100% _alive_."

Danny took a moment to process this information. Then,

"You're _straight_ , aren't you?"

"Yes. Why?"

Danny Mahealani looked upward, "Why do you keep putting these temptations before me? First the money, now this? Why are all the hot guys straight, taken or jerks?"

"Are you saying _I'm_ not hot, Mahealani?" Brett asked. "Or am I a jerk?"

"You said it, not me." Liam said smugly.

"Of course not, Brett. But you're too young for me." He looked back up and added, "Or underage?"

"Sean Walcott, this is my friend Danny Mahealani," Scott gestured toward the unlucky youth, "Danny, this is Sean Walcott."

Danny walked over and shook Sean's hand, "Drama aside, I'm glad you're alive. I'm sorry about what happened to your family... That was awkward. I suppose hitting on you wasn't the best introduction." He smiled and blushed, revealing adorable dimples, "Sometimes I think with my other brain, if you know what I mean."

"I know. It happens to all of, straight, gay, whatever." Sean smiled, and Danny wanted to fall into those clear green eyes, "You must be a saint or something. You really aren't like most people, turning that money in. It almost restores my faith in humanity."

Danny just stood and blushed.

"You know Danny, you deserve a reward for that," Derek looked at the Hawaiian youth, "I can get you free passes to _The Jungle_ for a year."

Danny almost fainted.

" _The Jungle?_ " Sean asked, "What's that?"

"It a pansexual nightclub, everybody's welcome except haters." Stiles said, "Though you'd probably be mobbed as soon as you went in judging from the reactions and looks you get, even from Scott's mom..."

"HEY!" Scott shouted.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen her checking out his ass."

Sean paled and felt a bit queasy that the woman who had so quickly become like a mother to him might be attracted to him. _"Why?"_ He interrupted the escalating argument between Scott and Stiles, "Why are so many people interested in _me?_ Can you guys _sense_ virginity or something?"

This time Danny did faint.

Sean caught him and set him gently on the bench.

Everyone else looked at Sean like he'd grown a second head.

"Hey, I'm waiting 'till I meet the right girl and we get married, okay? I'm an old-fashioned guy. That's how I was raised."

"No, that's not we're shocked about. Well, yes, we are shocked that you're still a virgin, especially looking like _that_..."

Sean's eyes narrowed, "Looking like what, Stiles?" Sean looked himself over as best he could without a mirror, "What's so impressive about me?"

Stiles shrugged, "Oh, I don't know, you're built like a Greek god, you have incredible eyes, you have a face that a lot of male models would kill for, you have a _perfect_ ass, from what I can tell through your clothe,s and you're a genuinely nice, honest guy."

"Watch the praise, Stiles, or I might decide to upgrade to a new model." Malia only growled a little when she said that.

"Oh... Ethan..." Danny moaned, then shook his head.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just thought someone _other_ than Stiles admitted he was still a virgin."

" _Our Stiles of The Perpetual Virginity..._ " Lydia snickered.

Everyone but Sean and Stiles laughed, Sean because he considered keeping his virginity a good thing, a sacred thing to be shared only with his future wife, and Stiles for the more obvious reasons.

Sean was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat flattered. Since he rarely left home except for gymnastics practice, he was new to interacting with people, and certainly to sexual propositions and observations. He was blushing bright red.

Both Brett and Danny appreciated this very much. Sean wasn't Brett's type, but he had to admit he was certainly stunning, Danny practically whimpered at the untouchable vision so close, yet so infinitely far.

"Have you ever been to a club?" Scott asked.

"No. I'm underage."

Everyone grinned wickedly. There was little more satisfying than introducing a total innocent into the world of sin.

"Are you a Werewolf too?" Danny whispered, so that the police officers wouldn't hear.

"No... I'm... _Something_ else. Something you _don't_ want to know about."

"McCall!" The officer stepped out of his office, "You're up."

...

The drive home was far less awkward than it had been after Liam's kidnapping.

"I know that you said Wendigo were cowards, but..."

"You weren't expecting Patrick to just give up at the sight of you?"

Scott nodded.

"We're taught to survive, not to be heroic and die in a blaze of glory. Dignity and honor are great, but they don't mean a thing if you're dead. 'Better a live dog than a dead lion', as Solomon put it. I mean, we have honor, a typical Wendigo would undergo torture and death rather than reveal the locations of others, family or not, to their enemies. Most of us don't hunt, don't kill, and the ones who do have codes, like not killing children, pregnant women, etc... We just try to fit in. But we will fight if cornered, or to protect someone we care about, like David..."

"He was found with your parents, right?"

Sean nodded.

"And we're people, just like everyone else. Some are raised differently than others. Some are raised to be brave, to challenge tradition and try to make ourselves a 'better' people. I was raised to run if I had to, fight as a last resort. I guess Patrick was raised with the idea that total subjugation is safer than resistance."

"But you don't run. At least, not from what I've seen."

"I do, and I did. Almost every night I dream about it. David went in to protect mom and dad, and I slipped out the bathroom window."

Scott looked almost upset by that. "You didn't hear them until it was too late. David did, and by the time you did notice something was wrong they were dead and The Mute was chasing you with a hatchet."

" I didn't even check to see if they were dead."

"You couldn't, that freak was blocking your way with a hatch-tomahawk! You were unarmed, alone and facing an armed freak who'd just confessed to murdering your family and said he was going to kill you. You did the only thing you could do, you ran. Anyone with sense would run from something like that. Mom said the autopsy reports showed they died pretty much instantly, The Mute just cut them up a bit more to make sure. They were dead, and if you'd stayed, you'd have died there too." He face-palmed, "God, that sounded horrible. It _is_ horrible."

"Yes, it is horrible. I know what you mean, they _were_ already dead, part of me _knows_ that, but part of me still hates me for running."

Scott suddenly realized that this was a topic he should not have brought up. If anything would trigger a panic attack, it was the memories of Sean's encounter with The Mute and the loss of his family.

"We are our own worst enemies, Sean. I didn't know your family, but I'm sure they'd be proud of the man you've become. In the week you helped save Liam's life and saved that Misty girl, not to mention all the others Patrick would have killed after her. You figured out The Deadpool numbers were actually multi-digit bounties, and you and Brett had some great ideas on the new list. You're smart, you're loyal, and you are brave. I know that I'm proud to call you pack, and to call you friend." He smiled, "I'm not sure I want to call you ' _Dad_ ' though."

"Has Mrs. McCall really been..."

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"But you brought it up!"

"Actually, Stiles brought it up. I blame him."

"You're not going to answer?"

"All I'll say is this. After the first day she met you, she's looked at you like she does me, as a son. Seriously, I think you're actually her _favorite_ son! If Derek convinces you to move in with him, I think they'll fight over custody!"

...

Melissa McCall was waiting when Scott and Sean finally got back from the station. Once again she hugged them both.

"Are you sure you're all right, Sean?"

"I'm fine. We saved a girl's life and stopped Patrick from hurting any more people."

"Are you boys hungry?"

"No, but I'm a little thirsty. Mainly we're tired."

"Well, I'll get you something to drink, and then you two are going to bed. We can discuss everything in the morning." She looked at Sean, "That is, if you're comfortable with it."

"I'm fine. Nothing happened, except for Danny coming into the police station with a huge bag of money he found in Garrett's locker. He just handed it in like t was nothing. He's really incredible."

"Danny Mahealani? He is a good boy. I'm not surprised he'd do something like that."

Scott silently wondered what he would have done if he'd found the money. Despite his mother being a high-ranking, well-respected doctor, things had been going down hill lately, all of the killings, including the 'death' of Sean by the hands of a professional assassin, had given the hospital a bad name, and all of the staff were suffering the consequences. They could have paid off most, if not all, of their bills, but Danny was right, it was blood money. And how would it look to Sean if Scott took money that was used by the same lunatic to have people killed as had paid The Mute for his family's murders?

Melissa smiled, "So, did you and Danny hit it off?"

"I'm straight Mrs. McCall." Sean replied, "But he''s a nice guy. He'd make a good friend."

"Yes, he would. He's a gentle boy, like you. He just has bad luck with boys. I was surprised when he broke off his relationship with Ethan, at first I'd hated the idea, but Ethan really proved himself a great kid, so did poor Aiden... I hope Ethan's safe, wherever he is."

"Danny said he still gets calls from him." Scott interjected, "Ethan's living in a new town and has a steady boyfriend. So we don't need to worry about him. And, he's not on the list, it seems limited to Beacon Hills."

"And the suburbs." Sean murmured softly. The Walcotts had lived in the suburbs of Beacon Hills, wanting to be as distant as possible from hunters and the ridiculously high rate of murders and 'animal attacks' in the city proper. They hadn't moved far enough.

Melissa didn't hear him, but Scott did. He clapped a hand on Sean's shoulder, "Mom, is Sean your favorite son?"

"Let's see," Melissa decided to play along, "Yes. Sorry Scott, but I like Sean better." She smacked Scott on the butt, "Bedtime, now."

Neither boy had enough energy to complain.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Misty will not be a recurring character. I want no recurring OC's this story.

Yes

Virgin!Stiles.

Virgin!Sean.

Virgin!Liam. (Though he's not going to say it)

I don't know why some people are ashamed of being virgins. It takes a lot of strength and self-control to hold out for that special someone, especially if you're attractive. Of course, Sean doesn't really know anyone, yet, outside of The Pack and a small circle of friends.

Poor Danny, he just can't find the right guy. Well, I think Ethan was the right guy, but that didn't work out for either of them.

In the episode where he appeared, Patrick was somewhat sadistic until he he was captured, at which point he started begging for his life. As Sean said, Wendigo are not a brave people (generally speaking). But like everyone else, they have exceptions to the rule.


	14. Chapter 14

Survival

Chapter 14

Confrontations

...

Peter Hale sat back in his recliner, reading quietly even as he heard Derek walk in uninvited.

"Peter." There was a menacing note to his nephew's voice.

He didn't bother to turn and look, "What did I do this time, Derek?" He asked calmly. "This isn't about The Mute, is it? He deserved to die, you said so yourself."

"We found out where the money The Benefactor pays her assassins is coming from." There was a dark undertone to Derek's voice.

" _Her?_ " Peter turned and raised a brow, "You know who it is?"

"The money came from _our_ family bank account." Derek's eyes glowed blue, " _We_ paid to have Sean's family killed, and all of the other people. It was _our_ money that she used!"

Peter stood, choosing his words carefully, "Are you implying what I think you are?"

"It seems likely that Meredith Walker is The Benefactor, _and_ she has access to our accounts. And your name is not on The Deadpool."

Peter stifled a growl at the accusation, now was not the time to show aggression. Derek obviously thought that he had something to do with this mess, and Derek was growing very protective of the Walcott boy. The wrong words or actions could lead to violence. "If you think I'm sponsoring this perverted little hunt you are gravely mistaken. Why would I? Why would I care if a family of Wendigo was living in Beacon Hills? Why would I want to kill them? It would gain me nothing in the way of power or status, if anything, hiring an assassin to kill four weak, helpless creatures in their beds would make me look weak, too weak to do my own killing. I understand they had money, but whoever had them killed paid to have it done, they took a loss. And I don't know any Meredith Walker, only that the newspapers said she was dead."

Derek could sense that Peter was telling the truth. He breathed a sight of relief, "Meredith Walker was confined in the room next to yours during the entire length of your coma. She's a _Banshee_ , Peter, your thoughts were bombarding her mind for years. Do you have any idea what you were thinking about?"

"It's a little hazy, as I was in a coma." Peter shot back sarcastically, "Hatred, rage, the desire for revenge, the things I wished I had done to Kate before I let her die..." He searched his memory, that had been an ugly time, trapped in his own head with the torture of the fire and his family's deaths still on his mind, endlessly repeating itself. "Weakness. Strength and weakness. I remember a crazy idea I had, that I could kill every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills and re-stock, so to speak, with the strongest, healthiest specimens, to make a pack that could never be broken by the Argents or anyone else..." His throat was suddenly dry, "If she absorbed that..." He smiled, but it was a sickly one, without a trace of joy, "She's trying to help me achieve my fever dream." His claws snapped out, his eyes burned blue, "You know what we have to do if this is true, Derek. She's too dangerous to live."

"That's exactly what Sean said."

"Smart boy. Pity he doesn't have the will to to carry out his words."

"He does, but he wants to be a good person. He doesn't want to kill. The deputy was something out of his control, but he doesn't want to kill anyone else, not even The Benefactor."

"He can't do it this time, either? He's too compassionate for his own good. I suppose I'll have to." Despite his calm, conversational manner, Peter was seething with rage. All of this, all of the pain, the death, the misery, came directly from his own mind. He couldn't allow it to continue. He had enough innocent blood on his hands, but he had no problem shedding guilty blood.

"We don't want her dead, Peter. She's insane, she probably doesn't even realize that what she's doing is wrong."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't make her victims any less dead. That doesn't give that boy back his family. She was able to play the puppeteer from Eichen House, and she'll do it again, unless we stop her, permanently. I'll make a deal with you Derek, you find her first, she lives, I find her first," He shrugged, "You'll find the pieces when you get there."

Derek glared at his uncle. The man was right, they had no real way of insuring that she would never kill again, except by her death. But that was something he did not want... There had to be another way.

Peter called back on the way out, "Oh, Derek, I hope you locked our account to keep her from stealing any more of our money?"

"Yes. Of course. If the bounty hunters don't get paid, they wont come."

"Let's just hope she's not smart enough to get in again."

...

Sean looked at Derek, a silent plea in his eyes, Derek just shook his head no.

The Pack were meeting with Peter Hale downstairs, and Sean desperately wanted to know what was going on, Derek had only told him a few key facts, but nothing specific. They weren't allowed to discuss these things with him, doctor's orders.

"I'm not made of glass, Derek." Sean was sitting cross-legged on his bed with Willow, and Derek was leaning against the door.

"No, you're not. You're made of flesh and bone, spirit and emotion. Any of these can be broken almost as easily."

"I think I'm more worried and confused being kept in the dark." Sean confessed.

"There's nothing to worry about," Derek's voice was kind, "We almost have her. We cut off her supply of money, so if a bounty hunter comes to collect, she'll have a lot of explaining to do in a very short period of time."

Sean smiled, "Being killed by her own hired assassins? _That's_ irony."

"The police have an APB out on her, and are printing up wanted posters for the public."

"Be interesting if she was found by a bunch of supernaturals she'd put on The Deadpool..."

"Do you really want her dead, Sean?"

"I... I really don't know. If I say yes, I'm a hypocrite. If she's as crazy as you say, she probably had as much control as I had when I killed that poor police officer. If she deserves to die for murder while insane, wouldn't I deserve the same? That deputy may have had a family who loved him, who'd want me dead if they knew the truth."

Derek knew that officer Myron Johnson had left behind a young wife, but he knew Sean was definitely not ready to face that.

"On the other hand, I wanted The Mute dead. As much as I try, I can't forgive him, even though I saw him die. He was just so evil, taunting me, playing with me, I think he enjoyed it. I think he enjoyed seeing his victims fear and suffering before he killed them."

"He's dead now. If there's a Hell, he's almost certainly in it. He's paid for his crimes. That doesn't make it any easier for you, I know. But at least you know he'll never hurt you, or anyone else, again."

"You kill, how is that different?"

"We both know the answer to that. I've already committed murder, my soul is already tainted. You still suffer because you killed a man as a Wendigo, you don't want to know the pain of _intentionally_ killing someone." He sighed deeply, "I'm going to tell you a story I've never told anyone else. A story of how I got my blue eyes, how I killed an innocent. When I was fifteen, there was a girl I loved very much, as much as a fifteen year-old boy can truly love. She was beautiful and kind, totally innocent. My family was worried that we were too young, that it was dangerous to date a human, and they were right. But, like any dumb kid, I didn't listen. Back then, Peter was still in school, he was seventeen. I don't know if he did it intentionally or maliciously, but he convinced me that the only way she and I could be together was if I gave her The Bite, made her a Werewolf. I wouldn't do it, so he forced my hand, he took wolf form and attacked us, I couldn't fight him off, and he badly injured her. She was dying, and the only way I could save her was The Bite. So I bit her." He was silent for a moment, "But it... It didn't take. She was dying, in terrible pain and fear. I killed her to end her suffering, and my eyes turned blue. I murdered an innocent girl."

Sean was horrified, "You were fifteen, a kid, faced with an impossible situation. It was an act of mercy."

"Maybe. But I still killed a fifteen year-old girl. An innocent lost her life that day, and I lost my innocence."

"It sounds like it was Peter's fault, not yours, if he hadn't-"

"What if's don't change anything Sean! We both know that." Sean had never heard Derek speak to him in such a sharp tone, but he was in obvious pain. "I'm sorry, Sean. It's a pain inside me, a pain that I'll be dealing with until the day I die. I didn't..." The words died in his throat. "I should have never gotten involved with her. She'd be alive now, probably have a family, a normal life."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done. You tried to protect her, you loved her, and you couldn't stand to watch her suffer."

Derek gave a small smile. "Thanks. I just wish I could convince myself that." The smile faded, "A few months after that, while I was still lost and confused, I met Kate Argent. She took advantage of my grief and my youth, and my family died because of it. She captured and tortured me, the girl I thought I loved, the girl I gave my virginity to... But that's enough of that story. My point is, every action we take causes another action, and another, like dominoes falling. If I hadn't dated a human girl, she would have lived, if I hadn't killed her, I wouldn't have been so blind with grief, I might have been able to see through Kate's deceit, and because I couldn't, my family died, Peter went insane and I'll spend the rest of my life in pain. Who knows what other affects that one choice will cause in the future? I have nothing left to lose, you're still a kid, with your whole life ahead of you. You don't want to start those dominoes falling, and I don't want to have to watch you suffer any more than you already are. I don't want you to end up like me."

Sean nodded, "You're right. I don't think I could liver very well with myself if I did that." He looked at Derek, "Why didn't you do anything to Peter?"

"I thought he meant well, but I did fight with him, it damaged our relationship pretty badly. Then, he rescued me from Kate and killed her, and I couldn't do anything to a suffering man who'd just saved me from torture and death."

"Is he always like that? Like he was with The Mute?"

"He believes that if you let an enemy live, they'll come back later with twice the firepower. He's not much for second chances." He smiled thinly, "Of course, it also depends on the person. If he likes someone, or really believes they won't be a threat again, he probably wouldn't kill them, depending on how angry he was."Derek walked over and picked up Willow, gently stroking her fur. If any other member of The Pack saw this, he'd never hear the end of it. "Sean, with all of these emotional ups and downs, are you getting hungry again?"

"No, surprisingly. Probably because I have so many good people pulling for me. If I start to feel The Hunger, believe me, I'll let The Pack know and we can get some... _Food_... Out of my basement."

"I'll keep that in mind."

...

"So, she's basically acting out a warped fantasy she read in your mind?" Liam asked.

"To put it simply, yes. That's the theory, anyway. That explains why my name's not on the list, and why and how The Benefactor is using the Hale family fortune to fund this sick game."

"But why is Meredith Walker's name on the list?"

"Because it was _my_ fantasy, not _her's_. She considers herself just as weak and deserving of death as every other non-human in this town. I'm the only one who is supposed to be immune, but The Mute didn't know that. I doubt any of the assassins know who The Benefactor is, just that they get paid."

"Tell me, did The Mute suffer? Sean won't talk about it." Malia asked.

"I'd like to think so. He lasted a good minute with half his face ripped off and his lungs exposed."

Malia smiled "Good. May he rot in Hell."

Scott looked at Malia with a weak chastisement, but no one else said anything. They'd all grown too fond of Sean and too aware of his suffering to pity The Mute.

"I know you don't want to hear this," Peter looked at Malia, "Or maybe you do, but Meredith Walker is too dangerous to live. I know there are all kinds of moral questions about her sanity, her responsibility for her actions, but when it comes down to it, she's deadly, she can control people and she fully intends to wipe out every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. If you feel sorry for her, don't come with me. Eichen House can't help her, we can't stop her unless we kill her. So we have no other option than to kill her."

Scott opened his mouth to protest but Brett spoke before he could, "How do we find her? She could be literally anywhere in Beacon Hills, the suburbs, she could still be hiding somewhere at Eichen House for all we know."

"We search boy. We get something of hers from Eichen House, and we sniff around until we find her, unless," He turned to Lydia, "If you can find a way to sense her mind, it would go a lot quicker."

"I've tried, but she's a far more powerful Banshee than I am. I'm still looking, even now, and I won't stop until we find her, one way or another."

"Good girl. Now we need a volunteer to go to Eichen and somehow get their hands on something of Meredith's, preferably clothing or a blanket."

"Stiles and I will go." Malia stood up and motioned for Stiles to join her.

Kira stood as well, "I'll go scout around town, check out good hiding places. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky."

"Wait a minute," Scott spoke up, "Those are good ideas, and I agree with them, but I still say we can't just murder this woman. What if she turns out to be innocent? Even if she's guilty, do we have a right to kill her?"

"As I told Derek," Peter stood and looked down at the young Alpha, "If you find her first, she lives, unless you come to your senses. If I find her first, they'll be shipping her home in little plastic bags."

...

Garrett was greeted by loud catcalls and whistles from every cell.

"Hey! Put the kid with me, I could use a good time!"

"Hey Fresh Meat, see you in the showers."

Garrett whimpered to himself, but kept himself tall and looking as confident as possible, the weak get eaten, or worse. He could not afford to be weak.

"Boy, I got a lollipop for you!"

"I'll be your daddy!"

A hand grabbed him from a nearby cell, "Pretty Boy, you're mine tonight."

The officer pushed the hand away, then unlocked the very same door, "Good luck with your new roommate, kid."

Hands were all over him, tearing at his clothes, touching him. He screamed, but the officers just laughed...

Garrett woke up in a cold sweat.

No way. No way was he going to prison. He wasn't going to let those dirty scumbags touch him.

Argent. Argent was a hunter. He would talk to him, hunter to hunter, beg if he had to.

Maybe he'd take pity on them.

He could still feel those filthy hands touching him.

He crawled up into the corner of the bunk and started to cry.

...

To be continued...

Notes

Yes, I know events are probably in the wrong order, especially with Kate, but it's fanfiction, not canon.

Peter is not evil in this story, he's just amoral and a little crazy. He won't hesitate to kill if he thinks someone deserves it, but he doesn't just go around mauling people and plotting evil against Scott's pack.

All of the surviving Hales share the account, though they also have accounts of their own and only draw on the family money when they have no other option.

Poor little Garrett...


	15. Chapter 15

Survival

Chapter 15

The Hunt

{Warning: Extreme Gore in this chapter}

...

Sean looked down at his bloody hands, clutching the officer's half-eaten intestines. They tasted as one might expect, but he was too hungry to care.

He'd tried, he really had.

He hadn't wanted to hurt him.

He started chewing faster, like an animal.

He was just _so_ hungry.

He heard his name being called by a voice filled with horror.

He looked up.

It was Dr. McCall.

The woman who'd treated him, who'd cared for him, comforted him as he wept for his lost family.

The woman who'd saved his life.

He could see the horror, the fear on her face.

His face, his hands and clothing were covered in blood and gore, he was holding a man's intestines in his hands, eating them.

 _Why her?_

 _Please no..._

"I was so hungry..."

 _God no..._

He jumped as she screamed, pushing her to the hard floor,

 _No! STOP!_

She screamed until he bit into her throat, showering himself in arterial blood.

"I'm so sorry..." His voice was trembling.

Her dying eyes held only fear, condemnation and disgust.

He began to feed, ripping into her tender flesh.

...

Sean Walcott awoke with a scream. He sat there, panting and sweating, watching Willow scurry under the bed.

Just like the night The Mute came.

There was a loud knock at the door, calls of concern coming from the other side.

He pulled himself out of bed and opened the door, seeing the concerned faces of Melissa and Scott McCall.

"I'm sorry. It was another dream." He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "Maybe we could get Stiles to soundproof the room."

"Then if something really were happening, we wouldn't know." Melissa said. It was obvious she was tired, she worked full days at the hospital and came home to a teenager who woke himself and everyone else up every other night screaming in his sleep. Sean looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry. I know what a bur-" He caught himself, if he called himself a 'burden' he'd never get out of the conversation about how much they cared for him, "I know you work hard at the hospital, and you have school." He looked at Scott. "I have to find a way to get this under control." With The Mute dead and The Benefactor exposed, if not captured, he felt like he should go back to his home, leave these good people to live their lives without his constant presence and needs. But he knew he wasn't ready. He could barely look at his old home, and had yet to set foot in it since the murders.

"Relax, Sean. I raised Scott, and when he was a baby every night he screamed like a Banshee."

"MOM!" Scott blushed and looked at his mother.

Scott was a baby at the time, not a seventeen year old boy with PTSD, panic attacks and night terrors. He knew he couldn't go home, and he couldn't survive alone in his state. Maybe Eichen House was the best option, but he didn't think he could live so close to Meredith Walker without succumbing to his urges to kill her. If they captured her alive, that is.

"You know you have an appointment with Dr. Gilman at 5:00 PM Friday. He's a good man, he's helped a lot of veterans with PTSD, he can help you."

"I dreamed about that night. At the hospital. I dreamed that I killed you. I was covered in your blood, and I couldn't stop myself."

Melissa put a hand on his shoulder, "That's not what happened, obviously, or I wouldn't be here. It was only a dream. A terrible, frightening dream, but a dream." She took his hand, "Let's go to the kitchen, I'll make you boys some hot chocolate. We can talk there."

Sean looked down and blushed. He was barely clothed, wearing only a pair of blue gym shorts, and he remembered what Stiles had said about Mrs. McCall possibly being attracted to him. "Just let me get dressed first. I'll be right down."

By the time he got to the kitchen, wearing his sweat pants and a t-shirt, the hot chocolate was ready and waiting. Mrs. McCall had brewed herself some tea, very strong, from the scent of it.

"Thank you." He said softly as he sat at the table. He smiled thinly, "But we have to stop meeting like this."

"You can't help it, Sean. Nobody blames you." Scott's voice was reassuring, "Whenever Stiles comes over for the night, there's about a fifty-fifty chance it will happen to him, too."

"I wouldn't wish this on anyone." He didn't bother to add ' _Except The Mute_ '.

"He'd gotten a lot less frequent with medication and therapy, but after The Nogitsune, it all came flooding back."

"You've mentioned this 'Nogitsune' before. What is it?"

Melissa and Scott looked at each other, debating whether to tell him.

"It was a demon, Sean. A Japanese fox-demon. It was summoned here during World War II by a prisoner in an Internment Camp for Japanese Americans. People were really paranoid about people with Japanese blood, and thousands of them were rounded up and sent to what were basically concentration camps." Scott began.

"I know. I've read about that. _American concentration camps_... People can be so hypocritical, stupid and cruel."

"Anyway, one of the prisoners was a Werewolf, and she knew about an avenging demon called Nogitsune, so she summoned him after her lover was badly injured, terribly burned. But he was pure chaos and evil. He took over the injured man's body, and killed everyone. Everyone in the camp, in the town, in Eichen House. Only his summoner survived, and she was able to trap him within a sacred tree called The Nemeton. About a year ago, The Nemeton was cut down, and to defeat an enemy, an murderous druid, Stiles, Lydia and myself had to open ourselves up as 'sacrifices' to stop her. It worked, but Nogitsune was able to escape and take over Stiles. He forced him to do terrible things, used him to murder dozens of people, including Aiden Carver and my girlfriend, Allison Argent, both of whom died helping stop him. And the whole time he was torturing Stiles in his own mind." His normally cheerful expression was grim, "He was captured, but we couldn't destroy him, only seal him away. Even though he was possessed and had no control over his body, Stiles still blames himself. It made his... _Issues_ worse. He's never been the same since."

Sean shuddered, he'd killed an innocent man in his madness and knew the guilt of that, but to be possessed, tortured and forced to kill dozens of people, including your friends? "And I thought The Mute was sadistic. At least he wasn't capable of possessing me." His voice was low, soft, "Aiden was that Ethan guy's twin, right?"

"Yeah. He died protecting the box we later used to catch Nogitsune. He died in Ethan's arms. Ethan was never the same after that, either. We offered to make him Pack, but he just couldn't bring himself to stay without his brother, and left Beacon Hills."

"That's awful, for everyone."

"Yes." Scott's voice was strained, his thoughts turning to Allison, "Yes it was..."

...

The next morning,

Stiles looked out the back window and nearly dropped his cola. His free hand reflexively shot down to protect his crotch.

"Stiles, what's wrong?" Scott asked.

"That contortionist freak outside! How can he not split in half doing that!?"

Scott walked to the window, and immediately understood what Stiles was saying.

Sean Walcott was doing a handstand, with the added twist that his legs were almost completely horizontal, feet pointing away from one another, forming a human T shape.

"Ouch!" Scott's hands reflexively shot to his crotch as well.

"No wonder he has such a great ass." Stiles commented.

Scott looked over at his friend. Stiles was still unsure whether he was straight, gay, bisexual or just perverted. Scott was going with 'perverted' for the time being.

Sean slowly lifted his legs until they were perfectly vertical. His face showed no signs of discomfort.

"And I thought Liam was a freak..."

...

Sean sighed, breathing in the scent of fresh grass. It was cold, but not cold enough to kill off the grass, yet. It felt good to be out.

It felt better to have plenty of room to practice. He'd found out that he would have access to his family funds, with some limitations designed to make sure he didn't blow through it like a hurricane. Of course, his parents had bought him a lifetime membership at the gymnastics club, so that, at least, wasn't a worry.

He saw an inverted Willow strolling through the yard. She turned, looked at him, and 'meowed'. Then she headed straight for him.

" _Willow_ , you better not be thinking what I think your thinking."

Willow responded by rubbing her fluffy body against his face.

"Willow!"

She came back for a second run. He heard laughter from the house, Scott and Stiles were probably watching him. Before she could rub his face again he sprang up, using his hands to propel his body so that he landed on his feet.

He made a great show of spitting out cat hairs. "Willow. Bad Kitty!"

Willow just sauntered off, like any other cat, she didn't care what humans (or Wendigo) thought of her. They were all naturally inferior to cats, after all.

...

Everyone but Stiles and Lydia sniffed at Meredith's blanket, even Sean, who wasn't supposed to be involved, but they'd agreed he'd needed to know the woman's scent for his own protection.

"Y'know, a month ago I had no idea how much we all stink." Liam exclaimed. He was still getting used to his new Werewolf senses, and sometimes his superhuman sense of smell was more a hindrance than a help, like in the locker room at school. "Thanks a lot for expanding my consciousness, McCall, I'm aware of how loud and smelly everything is now."

"Would you rather I had let you drop?" Scott asked.

"I would!" Brett, Malia and Stiles responded pretty much in sync.

Liam crossed his arms and huffed.

"Well, I like our little pack puppy." Lydia scratched behind Liam's ears, making him jump away, blushing red.

"And I'm certainly glad I didn't kill you." Sean added gratefully. "You're a good kid."

"Now that we've got the lovey-dovey sweetness crap out of the way, we have _work_ to do." Peter said brusquely, "We have a Banshee to track down, and she isn't going to eviscerate herself."

"Neither are we." Scott flashed his Alpha eyes at Peter, who shrugged off the display.

"I'm not one of your Betas, Scott. You want her in one piece, you find her."

"I was able to track down her account and freeze it," Stiles said, "But she has a powerful firewall on her personal computer. Where does an escaped mental patient with genocidal tendencies get a personal computer, anyways? It's not like they hand them out for free to every creepy-looking Banshee on the street. Uh, no offence, Lydia, I mean Meredith is a creepy looking Banshee, not you, because she's all creepy and has terrible hair and-"

Peter was already out the door.

"We'd better go," Scott interrupted, "We'll have to split into teams and keep our cell-phones at hand at all times. If you see something, don't just charge in, wait for The Pack. We've lost too many people already."

Stiles picked up a baseball bat and walked over to Sean, "I used one of these to protect myself at first, until it got broken over The Twins' head." He handed him the bat.

"Thanks... Which Twin?"

"Both of them. See, they could combine into one big, ugly super Werewolf. It was the craziest thing. They just melted into each other, like-"

"Stiles! C'mon."

"I'll explain later."

"Sean, Brett will stay here with you, okay?"

Sean looked at Brett apologetically, he was a strong Beta Werewolf, not a babysitter for a boy who was actually older than he was. Brett just shrugged. "Liam was too chicken to stay."

"What! I was not!" Liam shouted.

"It was my decision." Scott said with finality.

"I can be alone without setting the house on fire or eating the neighbors, you know." Sean said, "I'm a big boy."

"If I leave you alone, mom will eat _me_." And with that they were gone.

The remaining boys were silent for a long, awkward moment.

"So... Sean, you said something about Mason hitting on you?"

"Yeah, why?"

Brett frowned, "He's my boyfriend."

Sean looked warily at the baseball bat, "I won't have to use this, will I?"

"No. But Mason's gonna' get it when I see him at school tomorrow."

"I think he was turned off for good when I told him I was a cannibal who had to eat human flesh to survive."

" _Ce'st la vie_. You have to do what you have to do." Brett shrugged. "I have to admit, you _are_ a sexy guy, in an _Abercrombie & Fitch_ model kind of way, but you're not my type. I prefer _darker_ meat, if you know what I mean."

Sean just nodded.

Brett's cell phone beeped, and he answered it quickly.

"This is him."

"Really?"

"I don't know how I should feel about that right now. Thanks, Mr. Stilinski. I mean, Sheriff."

Not having Werewolf-like hearing made it impossible for Sean to hear the sheriff on the phone.

"Garrett Ross just tried to kill himself." Brett explained, "They're taking him to Eichen House for evaluation, apparently he was so terrified of being raped in prison he had a complete breakdown. He tried to hang himself with his sheets."

Sean didn't know what to say. Garrett was a cold-blooded killer. He was also a kid, and not a very brave one at that. Something awful must have really screwed him up to make him a killer at such a young age. He said he was an orphan... It was sad, for the victims and for Garrett and Violet. Maybe he'd be better off if he stayed in Eichen House.

"I may not like Garrett, but I don't want anyone to be raped." He looked at Brett with a quizzical expression, "Ross?"

"Yeah, that's his full name. Garrett Ross and Violet Jackson."

"So, what do you want to do?" Sean asked, "We can watch TV, play video games, ruin Scott's sports equipment playing in the back yard even though I know literally nothing about lacrosse..."

Brett grinned, "I'll take door number 3."

...

Derek noted an unusual number of non-human scents as the they searched abandoned buildings and homes for Meredith Walker. He even picked up on Peter's scent several times. There were all sorts of creatures about, no doubt looking for the same quarry. The Benefactor's actions had caused the deaths of three of the four members of the Walcott family, an innocent girl and a delivery man, that he knew of. And now every supernatural and his Grand sire knew that Meredith Walker was the prime suspect. People who lived in the shadows, hiding from humanity, often had to seek justice by their own hands, and the hefty bounty on Meredith's head was an incredible incentive as well.

At least the sheriff had stopped Peter from adding 'Dead or Alive' to her wanted poster.

But for some it was not be so simple or base as money.

There were other Wendigo in Beacon Hills, and while Wendigo had a reputation for cowardice, once they faced a threat to their community and the loss of innocent Wendigo lives, they would band together and stop the threat. Any passing lone Omegas would see it as a chance to get in good favor with the local packs and perhaps better their plights, and human hunters, both of the supernatural and criminal kind, would see this as a chance to gain wealth and esteem. The Argents considered The Benefactor and her murderers disgraceful, dishonorable interlopers and wanted them gone, and her own hired assassins would come for her when it became apparent they wouldn't get paid. And, of course, the police wanted very much to have a chat with Miss. Walker.

In short, Meredith Walker was screwed six ways to Sunday.

If he were a religious man, Derek would be praying that they had not just condemned an innocent woman to a horrible fate. The evidence was mostly speculation based on the words of The Benefactor herself and a mentally unstable Wendigo serial killer. Patrick Clark's truthfulness was key. And The Pack had all agreed that he was not lying to Sean about Meredith. Patrick did not take Meredith Walker's body, which was not found in his freezer or half-eaten in some ditch, as it would have been if he had taken her. That left two possibilities.

1\. More bounty hunters stole the body hoping to take credit for her death. Which wouldn't work as it was already publicly listed as a suicide and The Benefactor would probably not be so stupid as to fall for that trick.

or

2\. Meredith Walker was not dead. Like Sean, she had simply got up and left the morgue. She had never been dead, just in a state that mimicked death.

There was, of course, Lydia's insight into what would happen if a mad Banshee absorbed Peter Hale's most evil, insane ambitions and decided to act upon them. Which made a great deal of sense, as Meredith was literally a few yards away from Peter for almost a decade, peering into his damaged and twisted mind.

She might be mad, but she was hard to physically track. Her scent was not present at any of the locations so far. It was possible that she had bought or stolen one of a variety of products that could mask one's scent. The best were expensive, but with the money she'd stolen that would not have been an issue.

However, it was an issue for those trying to track her.

A very frustrating issue.

He looked over at his search partner, Lydia, who had been prying into the other side of the old building. She shook her head.

No luck here, either.

Sighing, they went back to his Camaro and drove away.

...

To be continued...

Notes

I've actually seen pictures of male acrobats and gymnasts in the position I described, I have no idea what it's called.


	16. Chapter 16

Survival

Chapter 16

Dreamscape

{Warning : More extreme gore in this chapter}

...

 _He_ stepped straight out of the darkness, a nightmare made flesh.

Like something out of a horror movie.

The boy almost didn't believe it was real.

It had to be a prank, a sick joke.

The intruder, the _monster_ , was tall and bald, dressed in black. A deathly pale man with no mouth carrying a bloody, dripping tomahawk.

Drip.

Splat.

Drip.

Splat.

The boy rushed back into his room and slammed the door.

It wouldn't hold him long.

Sean desperately searched for something, _anything_ to use as a weapon. Scissors, a pocket knife, _anything_.

The sound of splintering wood told him time had run out.

He ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, his thoughts whirling in his head.

"Hello Sean," A cold, mechanical voice said, "I just killed your family."

His heart dropped into his stomach.

 _This can't be real. This can't be happening_.

"Are you going to die like them, begging for your life, or are you going to fight?"

 _Mom, Dad, David..._

 _Dead..._

His fists clenched, fear and rage burned through his mind.

"Here, I'll help you." Came the taunting, metallic voice, "Wrap a towel around your hand and smash the mirror. Use one of the shards to fight."

 _Sadistic bastard!_

He wrapped a towel around his arm.

Sean looked into the mirror. He saw a handsome, well-muscled young man with dark blond hair and desperate green eyes.

He was also an unarmed, half-naked teenager facing a monster from Hell.

He looked at the mirror.

He turned, and saw Salvation.

And he smiled.

Sean turned to the window, and smashed his arm through.

It hurt. The thick glass cut through his skin like daggers, but he had no time.

The sound of wood splintering had begun again.

He jumped out the window and ran.

...

He was hungry.

 _So_ hungry.

Tears came to his eyes, he knew what was about to happen, and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't even warn him.

It was far too late.

Sean stood up and approached the deputy guarding his room.

The man turned, "Hey, kid, are you alright?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just so hungry."

He saw the terror on the man's face, saw him reach for his weapon, but he was faster. He broke the man's neck with a sickening snap.

He no longer had the self-control or patience to remove the bullet-proof vest, he just reached under it and ripped into the skin, pilling out the first bit of flesh he could grasp.

The intestines.

He nearly vomited at the sight, but The Hunger, The Wendigo, was too strong.

He lifted it to his mouth and began to feed, operating on pure hunger. The taste was horrid, but it was food.

The Wendigo needed food.

"Sean?"

He looked up to the doctor, his doctor approaching, then stopping, taking in the gruesome scene before her.

"I couldn't help it. I'm so hungry..." He managed to pitifully say, before the beast overtook him again.

Then he lept toward her.

...

Meredith Walker awoke with a soul-shattering scream.

"Mom? Dad? David?" She whimpered, looking around the warehouse fearfully.

No, they were dead. They wouldn't be here.

But _he_ might be here.

 _Waiting._

Waiting to finish the job.

She saw movement in the shadows, and curled against the wall.

 _He'd_ heard her!

 _He_ was coming!

A pigeon flew from the shadows.

Slowly she began to get a hold of herself.

She was _not_ Sean Walcott.

She was The Benefactor, The Agent of Peter Hale's final revenge upon Beacon Hills.

The catalyst for change.

A Phoenix would rise from the ashes of the vermin.

She was _The Benefactor._

The Harbinger of Rebirth.

She would establish greatness upon the bones of the unworthy. Including her own, once her role was finished.

But these cursed dreams...

The Nightmares had started shortly after she realized the Walcott boy was still alive.

She had searched for him, she had peered into his mind, his dreams.

But they were not dreams at all.

They were night terrors.

They had invaded her mind like damned souls fleeing from Perdition.

And now they were her personal Hell.

She lifted her thin, trembling body and walked carefully over to the computer, eyes constantly searching for any sign of The Mute.

But The Mute was dead.

Then again, she'd thought the same of Sean Walcott, and now his nightmares, his fears were lodged in her mind.

She shook it off as best she could, and checked her computer.

 _No!_

She began frantically typing, but nothing changed.

The Deadpool was down.

Voided.

Someone had cancelled her bounties!

She swiftly checked the account where she had hidden Peter's funds.

It had been frozen.

She'd been hacked. Cut off from her funding and The Deadpool had been taken down.

She pulled at her short hair in frustration, _How could this happen?_

An e-mail alert sounded.

The topic read 'Meredith Walker'.

She opened it.

...

 _Wanted_ _By State and Federal Authorities,_

 _Meredith Walker_

 _A.K.A._

 _The Benefactor_

 _On multiple charges of Murder, Attempted Murder, Solicitation of Murder, Criminal Conspiracy, Felony Assault, Kidnapping, Grand Theft_

 _A reward of $25,000,000. is being offered for information leading to her capture._

 _Contact The Beacon Hills Police Department with any tips._

 _Do_ not _approach. Subject is_ extremely _dangerous._

 _If you see her, contact your nearest law enforcement agency at once._

 _..._

It was accompanied by an unflattering picture of herself from Eichen House and a physical description, height, weight, etc...

She punched the screen, shattering the monitor and cutting her knuckles.

 _No. The work isn't complete!_

 _It's not ready yet!_

"Hello Sean. I just killed your family."

She jumped and turned around, gazing fearfully into the shadows.

Not again.

Not the voices.

"Are you going to die like them, begging for your life, or are you going to fight?"

They just kept coming.

"Run all you want, little Wendigo... I'll find you. And you'll die."

If it didn't stop, she believed she'd go insane...

"Wendigo don't need help! We need _food!_ "

She sank to the floor, covering her ears.

" _Why?_ What did we ever do to you? My family never hurt you! They never hurt anyone! They were good people! Why did you do this to us? _Why_?"

She wrapped her arms around her knees and began rocking back and forth.

"I'm sorry." She said in a small voice, "I was just so hungry..."

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Meredith isn't faring too well, is she? She doesn't realize that she's already insane, she thinks her actions are perfectly logical.

Q. Where did the reward money come from?

A. The Hale's. She used their money to commit the murders, it's only fair that they use that money to track her down.

Q. How did she get trapped with Sean's night terrors and panic attacks?

A. The same way she picked up Peter's thoughts. Telepathy.


	17. Chapter 17

Survival

Chapter 17

The Hunger

...

Sean was lying in bed, thinking about the grim task ahead of him.

He had to plan the funeral for his father, mother and brother.

Of course, Mrs. McCall and others were making the arrangements, but he still had say in many areas, and certain things he would have to choose himself, such as how to do this in the first place, one funeral for three people, or three funerals. The money his parents had left him was substantial, but a single funeral was expensive, much less three. But getting them all done at once would be, hopefully, less traumatic than waiting for each one, deciding who's service would be first, etc...

So he had chosen a single funeral, with his mother, father and David being mourned at the same time. He didn't have to heart to go upstairs in his own house, though he had managed to enter the foyer. His friends had found one of David's suits for his body, and one of Sean's own to wear to the funeral, but he was still leery of anyone going into his parents room, a room he had sworn not to set foot in, the room where his whole family had been butchered. It had been cleaned, though his friends with keener senses could still smell blood, fear and death. Repeated scrubbings and disinfection could not make that scent go away.

And there were still lingering traces of The Mute's scent, though they were quickly smothered as soon as they were found.

He didn't care if they marked their territory on the spots, just that they made that monster's stink go away.

He suddenly felt something in the pit of his stomach, a growling, needy feeling.

 _Oh God._

He reached over to his night stand and grabbed his prescription Ativan he'd gotten from Dr. Gilman. It had really helped cut down on the panic attacks, though it made him drowsy and could do little for his night terrors. He took Prazosin for those his night terrors.

But neither could stop The Hunger.

He immediately jumped up and ran to the door of his room, "Scott! It's starting! I have to go home, _now!_ " He shouted.

Scott was almost instantly at the door, "It, as in..."

" _The Hunger._ In a few hours I'll be a..."

"In a few hours you'll be full." Derek appeared. "C'mon, I'll take you home."

"I'm coming too." Scott stated, "I know you don't like to be alone, especially there."

Sean felt a cramp in his stomach, and hunched over a bit, causing Derek to reflexively steady him.

"I...I don't want anyone to watch. It's pretty ugly. You know Scott, you've seen what I can do when I'm hungry."

"Okay, we'll take you there, and wait outside the... Um, freezer until you're done."

The pair rushed Sean past the curious pack and into Derek's Camaro.

"Is everything alright?"

"He'll be fine. He just needs some dinner."

Several people shuddered, but no one said a thing. It was his nature, there was no way to stop it.

...

Derek entered the darkened house with Sean's key and immediately flipped on the lights.

He sniffed cautiously.

They were alone.

"It's safe, Sean."

Scott hurried Sean inside.

The young Wendigo looked at the dark wooden staircase leading to the second floor and began trembling.

It scared him, knowing what had happened to his family, what had almost happened to him.

But he had to feed, or put his friends in terrible danger.

Derek noted his hesitation and began to climb the stairs, "Which panel is it?"

Sean moved with weak, shaking legs to the first step, "The slightly darker board to the left of the grandfather clock."

Derek pressed the board as Scott helped Sean up the stairs.

Thee older wolf was immediately hit by a blast of cold air and a scent of death. The bodies might be preserved, but they were still dead.

"Can you eat... One of those _frozen_?"

"We have a special room in there, to heat up the bodies quickly and eat in privacy."

Both wolves grimaced at the thought, but it couldn't be helped.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I can manage on my own."

"We'll wait then." Scott said, unable to hide the relief in his voice, "Is there anything you need while we're here?'

"I-I need something for my parents. For the funeral. A suit and a dress. Mom always liked the blue dress with white trim." Sean was already making his way into the freezer, "Thank you, both of you."

"You're more than welcome. You're one of us now. Pack."

...

Sean grabbed the closest body, a middle-aged woman. The cramps in his stomach were getting worse, but he still had at least an hour before The Wendigo would demand to be fed. He quickly pulled the corpse from storage, lifted it in his arms and rushed into the thawing room.

The thawing room was blessedly warm, with a custom machine for defrosting meat, a counter with a sink, changes of clothes and eating utensils. There was a stove/oven, but he didn't have time to cook. He looked sadly at a small table with four chairs. His family had shared many precious moments around that chair, stories were told, jokes even. He and David sometimes fought over ribs or hearts...

No, he couldn't afford to think of that now.

He put the body in the defrosting machine and sat at the empty table to wait.

He could almost see David sitting across from him, rolling his eyes at something he or dad had said. His father, holding the knife, talking about how grateful they were that they had food, and to never forget to be grateful to God for every meal. His mother, fussing with the utensils and wondering if she'd used enough curry.

He felt familiar tears flowing down his face.

Now he truly was grateful. Now he understood what his father had been saying.

 _Every day we live is a gift, every meal we eat is a blessing_.

He sat at the family table in silence, waiting for his meal to thaw.

...

Derek walked down the hall to Sean's room. The door to his room, and the one to his bathroom, had been replaced due to damage caused by The Mute, as had the window in the bathroom. He stepped quietly into the room and turned on the light. It was a fair sized, homey, comfortable room with a blue-blanketed bed, made up on a previous trip. A small shaded adjustable lamp sat on a end table beside the bed. The bloody paw prints, (from what Derek smelled and had been told by Sean, Willow had entered the room covered in his family's blood) had been cleaned, as well the small pool of blood left beneath his bed where she had hidden during the attack. Most of Sean's personal possessions, pictures, clothes, a few hand weights and several books had been taken to his current room in the McCall house. There had also been a small cat bed for Willow, though she apparently slept in Sean's bed and ignored her own. That, her food bowel in the kitchen and her litter-box, had been taken to the McCall's as well.

The room itself had been surprisingly clean, besides the signs of struggle left by Sean's desperate attempts to find something to defend himself and The Mute's destruction of the door. Except for David's room, which had been a bit messy, comparatively speaking, and had a few posters on the walls of movies and rock bands, the whole house was incredibly neat and tidy. It didn't look like a stereotypical teenage boy's room, everything was clean, organized and orderly. The bathroom, however, had been a shambles. The Mute had broken down the door with a tomahawk, Sean himself had broken the large window, leaving shards of glass and a disturbing amount of blood behind. Various toiletries had been scattered amongst the shattered glass and splintered wood, including a broken bottle of cologne (Sean no longer wore cologne, only mild deodorant) that, combined with the scent of fear, grief, pain and blood had sickened Derek the first time he had stepped inside the bathroom. And that was with the window completely broken out. Those scents, along with the vile stench of The Mute, had been neutralized as best as possible, though hints of fear still lingered in the walls.

It was sad that, in order to make the Walcott house livable again, they'd had to erase many of the comforting, familiar scents in the parent's and Sean's rooms. As David had died in their parent's room, and The Mute had not entered his own, that room at least was spared the need for a deep cleaning, and remained perfectly intact, exactly as he had left it. No one had entered the room, so at not to mingle the scents. When, and if, Sean returned to live here, at least this room would smell of family.

Derek turned and walked over to join Scott in the parent's room.

...

Scott looked around the room. The queen-sized bed had been stripped and covered with clean sheets and a new mattress, the floor looked spotless, but still reeked of spilled blood. The pictures and keepsakes that had not been broken were on the curio shelf, they planned to repair the others, once they had time. There were a few gashes in the wood, both on the walls and the floor, they could do nothing for that, and the large, cracked mirror had yet to be replaced, though they had carefully cleaned it of blood and picked up the loose shards of glass.

They headed toward the closet first, it was a walk-in, the clothes neatly hanging hanging, shoes lined the floor. The Walcott's had been sticklers for cleanliness and order, and everything was easily found. The blue dress with white trim had a high collar and was longer than fashionable, possibly reaching the ankles, and had a sort of innocent feel to it. It looked like something you'd see in a movie about the 19th century, modest and impeccably clean. Scott wondered if she had a brooch to go with it, like in the movies. He'd have to ask Sean, later. He pulled out a pair of garment bags, but took time with the shoes. Like most men, he had no idea what shoes went with what colors, besides the obvious (I.E. blue and blue, white and white and so on.) So he chose a pair of blue shoes without heels.

Mr. Walcott had owned several suits, and Sean had not specified suits or ties, or so Derek picked a well-pressed, clean black suit and black tie, with black dress shoes. Moving to the dresser he opened a drawer, pulling out a spotless white undershirt, some equally spotless black boxers and black dress socks. He felt guilty going through another man's underwear drawer, and felt worse when he moved on to Mrs. Walcott's undergarments. Not surprisingly, they were spotless and modest, as far as women's underwear went, (He'd seen a few, maybe more than a few, _Victoria's Secret_ catalogs, this looked almost Amish in comparison. he was grateful for that, he didn't want to go fishing around in frilly lace panties or colorful thongs.)

The two wolves respectfully laid the clothes out on the bed and closed the closet and drawers.

"Do you think she had a brooch or cameo or something?" Scott asked. "This looks like something you'd see in a movie about the 1800's..."

"I don't know. Well ask Sean once he's done." Derek replied, "That does look old fashioned." He looked over at the dress. "I wonder what the Walcotts were like."

...

Sean was ravenous, all of the stress, fear, pain and grief were pouring out of him. He'd almost waited too long, in his mental state, (and he was well enough to be aware that he was really mentally and emotionally unstable since the murders), he was as Stiles had described Liam, 'A walking time bomb'.

He really wished that Liam would take his medication. He'd give his right eye for something that could stop his Hunger, but Liam refused to treat his IED because it affected his lacrosse skills.

He tried not to look at the face of the corpse he was eating, even placing a rag over her face. He didn't want to think about how disgusting his needs were, or the family this woman may have left behind. She was dead, he couldn't hurt her, but if she had family...

Once he had finally sated his hunger he carefully wrapped the remains and put it back in the freezer, there was still meat left, and he couldn't afford to waste and washed the table clean. Then he stripped off his bloody clothes, placed them in a special container, washed the blood and gore from his body, and changed into a spare set. His family was always careful about that, even a brief glimpse of someone covered in blood, with most of it around the mouth, would have brought the police at best, at worst... Well, the worst had already happened.

They even had toothbrushes and toothpaste beside the sink...

He walked back through the cold freezer and into the main house.

Scott and Derek were sitting on the stairs, waiting for him.

"Feeling better?" Derek asked.

"Yeah." Sean's voice was not particularly enthusiastic, "I just hate having to do this."

"You can't help being who you are."

"But that doesn't mean I have to like it." He sighed, "Thank you, guys. I can't come here alone just yet, and you wouldn't like me when I''m hungry. You're real life savers."

"We already put the clothes in the car." Scott said, "But we were wondering if your mother had a brooch or something she wore with her dress."

"My grandmother's cameo, but she'd want it to stay in the family, not be buried with her."

"I also didn't know which shoes to bring, so I picked the blue ones."

"I know about as much about clothes as any other guy on the planet who isn't a fashion designer. It should work, but maybe we should ask Lydia or Mrs. McCall." Sean said, closing the hidden panel to the freezer. "Let's go, okay."

As they walked out the door, Sean took his key and looked at the door, this house held so many memories, good and bad. Maybe, one day, it could be a home again.

But not today.

He locked the door and walked toward the Camaro.

...

To be continued...

Notes

I take Ativan for panic attacks, but I'm not a doctor so I can't endorse it. Prazosin is unfamiliar to me, but it's used to ease night terrors and PTSD. Taking the two together could have side effects I'm not aware of.

I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR PHARMACIST. I just needed two real life medications to ease Sean's suffering. If you need medical treatment for PTSD, night terrors or panic attacks, _see a doctor_. These medications are also only available by prescription.


	18. Chapter 18

Survival

Chapter 18

Found

...

Derek looked up at the sign and coughed, "Well, this isn't awkward at all."

Sean shrugged. It was just a part of life, and death.

 _Walcott Funeral Home_

"Let's hope no one in The Pack sent Grandma here to buried." Scott channeled Stiles' sarcasm.

Derek shot Scott a glowing blue glare and a snarl.

"I'm sorry, Sean, I mean... I wasn't thinking. I know you have to eat..." Scott blabbered apologetically.

Sean outwardly ignored him, but the fact remained the people his family had eaten had been entrusted to their care for cremation or burial. They had been careful, taking only unclaimed corpses for 'unmarked graves' or bodies to be cremated, but they were still people's loved ones... And now it was his own family laying inside, cold and dead.

Sean got out of the car and picked up the garment bags as Scott got the shoes and Derek held the door.

It was a brightly lit area with artificial floral displays and chairs scattered about. The waiting room.

A short, overweight man looked up from the counter and gave a sort of half-smile, as if he couldn't decide whether to be happy or sad, "Sean. You've picked up the clothing?"

Sean nodded, "Right here, Jerry." He held up the bags.

"And here." Scott indicated the shoes.

"Jerry these are the friends I told you about, Derek Hale and Scott McCall. Guys, this is Jerry Alverson, one of dad's- I mean, the funeral home employees."

'I've heard a lot of good things about both of you, how you've helped Sean through this terrible time, and your kindness in taking him in. It's an honor meeting you both."

Derek shot a glance at Sean, "I'm sure he exaggerated a bit."

"Oh, it's not just Sean, Mrs. McCall spoke very highly of you as well." He held up the clothing bags, "I'll go take these to Alex, why don't you young men have a seat. I'll be right back." He took the clothing and walked through a door labeled 'Employees Only'.

Derek had his best Grumpy Cat face on, "Now everyone in town's going to think I'm some kind of soft-hearted pushover."

"Yeah, can't have them thinking you actually feel emotions, can we?" Scott smiled. It felt very creepy, joking in the waiting room of a funeral home where your friend's parents and brother were laying in state somewhere near by.

Jerry came out with another man. Tall, bony and wiry, he looked like a stereotypical mortician.

"Sean!"

"Alex."

"I wasn't expecting you today."

"I had to... Stop by the house and pick up something, and my friends volunteered to go into my parent's room and get something decent for the burial." He nodded toward the others, "This is Derek Hale and Scott McCall."

"Alex Fisher." The man extended his hand and both wolves reluctantly shook it, "I'm the director here." He looked at Scott, "Are Mrs. McCall's boy?"

"Yeah. I mean Yes Sir."

"She's a good woman. Saved my life when I had appendicitis. You know she's done much of the planning already, right?"

"Yes. We just came to drop off the clothes."

"Alex, was Lee able too... I mean..."

"We'll be having an open casket ceremony, yes. Their faces were not damaged in the attack." Alex looked incredibly uncomfortable discussing the murders of his employer and his family to said employer's only surviving child. "Are you sure you want that, Sean."

"No, I'm not. I saw... I saw dad when I woke up in the morgue. I don't want that to be my last memory of his face."

Alex shook his head sadly, "You are a strong young man, had I suffered catalepsy and woken in the morgue, I'd have died of fright."

"Cata-what?"

"Catalepsy. It's a condition in which all of the body's functions appear to cease, causing an appearance of death for a period of time, after which the victim awakens. As happened..." His voice trailed off.

"To me." Sean finished, "It's alright, Alex. You can talk about what happened in front of me. It hurts, it hurts like Hell, but it's the truth. My family was murdered, I nearly died, went cataleptic and woke up in the morgue." He sounded strong, but there was a slight tremor in his voice. "My father would undoubtedly be proud of your hard work in our behalf."

Alex reached out and put a firm hand on Sean's shoulders, "I want you to know that we are all grateful that you survived this ordeal and pray for your peace of mind. If you need anything, anything at all, just call us."

Sean's eyes shimmered a bit, "Thank you, Alex."

As they walked the car Scott looked back at the building, "They're both human. Do they know about..."

"No. No they don't."

"Hey, do you hear sirens?"

...

They were here.

Sirens, shouting...

Didn't they realize that she was trying to make this town better?

"How? By killing everyone?" Sean's bitter voice echoed through the empty building

She looked around frantically for him.

There was no one.

Right?

The sirens were so loud.

She was getting a headache.

"Are you going to beg for your life like they did, or fight?" The Mute taunted.

 _NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!_

...

Peter watched as the BHPD surrounded the warehouse, and cursed softly to himself. _I should be relieved nobody's going to claim the $25 million,_ He thought _, But I wanted to rip that crazy bitch's heart out with my own hands._

There had been a tip about a bizarre scream coming from the warehouse early that morning. A scream that broke windows blocks away. If that wasn't a Banshee, he didn't _want_ to know what it was. Of course, for the first time in Beacon Hills history, the police had been the first to arrive to apprehend someone. Usually McCall and his Pack had to take care of it.

The SWAT team was getting ready to go in, probably unnecessary considering the woman barely weighed a hundred pounds wet and was likely unarmed, but if it increased the chance of her getting her head blown off, he was all for it.

He heard a loud voice shrieking from inside about 'weeding out the weak', something about a Phoenix, and then...

"I'm sorry, I was just so hungry!"

His breath caught in his throat as she began quoting different things Sean Walcott had said, rambling about 'the mouthless man' coming to kill him, apparently referring to herself as 'him', as if she thought she _was_ Sean.

Sheriff Stilinski shook his head. He recognized that she was saying things that were more likely to come from Sean's mouth than her own. He wondered about what they'd said, about her 'absorbing' Peter Hale's dreams.

What if she had absorbed Sean Walcott's night terrors?

And just how much more desperate, crazy and dangerous did that make her?

The Camaro pulled up just in time to hear Meredith raving about finding Willow and calling for David.

Sean Walcott's face turned ghostly pale as she began a ramble about 'Mom, Dad and David', before screaming about everyone deserving to die and how sorry she was for 'eating him' and how she was The Benefactor, 'Peter's Cleansing Sword', how Kate Argent murdered her family, how The Mute murdered her family. She was switching from one mind to another like someone was rapidly changing channels on the TV ...

The SWAT team rushed into the building.

...

 _He_ was here!

But he was many...

Many men without mouths, without faces!

Screaming at her!

"GO AWAY!" She shrieked as the faceless men reached out with jet black hands, seizing her.

One of them had something white.

A straitjacket.

 _"LORRAINE!"_

She kicked and screamed and clawed and bit, but she couldn't fight them off.

Then she saw _him_.

He'd found her...

He was standing there, watching with cold, dead eyes from a torn and twisted face. The skin was ripped away below the nose, revealing fused bone where jaws should have been. His rotting fingers played across the device that served as his voice.

"Hello Meredith. Hello Sean. I've been looking for you for a long time."

"NO!"

"Did you honestly think you could get away from me, little Banshee? Little Wendigo?"

He pulled out a bloody tomahawk.

"I think you'll beg this time, Sean."

She screamed.

...

The officers and bystanders covered their ears, the windshield of a police cruiser cracked, and the flashing lights exploded.

Scott and Derek thought their eardrums would explode from the Banshee's shriek, and for once Sean was grateful that Wendigo did not possess enhanced hearing, it was painful enough within the human range.

Then it was over.

Meredith Walker was in custody.

...

Not five minutes later the SWAT team emerged with Meredith Walker, bound in a straitjacket, still ranting about The Mute coming for her.

For a moment she locked her green, bulging eyes with Sean's light green orbs, and he saw pure, unadulterated _madness_.

Utter insanity.

Terror, hatred, guilt, grief, despair and many other emotions roiled within those huge green eyes.

Her mind was in tatters.

 _When you Stare too long into The Void, The Void stares back._

He shuddered and ripped his eyes away in horror.

He was trembling

This pathetic creature had been behind everything?

 _Sean? Sean Walcott is here?_ Meredith saw the pain, the suffering in the boy's eyes, the agony _she_ had caused him. It had been a list, names, cold impersonal words and cash she never set eyes upon, bodies of people she would never know. To see what she had truly done, to experience, literally, the pain of one of her victims. To see an innocent boy whose life she almost taken, whose happy little world she had destroyed, with her own eyes...

Had she been wrong all this time?

Had she really helped at all?

Or had she only brought pain, death and suffering?

 _Dear God._

Something broke inside of her.

She didn't feel the tears running down her face.

As they loaded her into the police cruiser, the last thing Sean heard her say was, 'Willow? Willow, where are you?" She kept calling out in a sad voice for his cat until the door shut and she was whisked away.

Sean shivered, and his blood turned to ice.

"Let's get the Hell out of here." His voice was barely a whisper.

Derek immediately pulled around and sped back toward the McCall house as Scott began calling The Pack.

...

"I wonder if she'll run in to Garrett at Eichen House?" Liam pondered, "It would be ironic, don't ya think"

"They keep the humans and the supernaturals segregated, so it's highly unlikely." Parrish said. "Besides, she's almost catatonic, according to the doctors. The voices that drove her are apparently all gone. Including her own. They think she has total amnesia, the stress was too much and her mind basically re-booted. Meredith Walker and The Benefactor no longer exist.

"Why _my_ mind? How did she get into my head?" Sean felt somewhat violated that this psychotic woman had seen his thoughts and dreams. But at least his night terrors had helped stop her.

"You were dead, and then you weren't. You managed to fool her, a Banshee, and that surprised her, so she went looking for you with her mind. Her mind caught you in a night terror, and she absorbed your fears, confusion and grief into herself. But when she finally saw you, in the flesh, it was the final straw. It had been easy for her to kill without ever seeing the victims, feeling the consequences of her actions. But between being tormented by your grief and seeing you as a real, living person, she must have realized the terrible truth of what she had done. So she erased _everything_ to hide from the pain." Lydia explained, "Or, that's my idea, anyway."

"So she's basically an empty shell?" Stiles grinned, "That is justice in it's purest form, ladies and gentlemen. And you too, Liam."

"Next practice Stiles, I'm gonna' shove your lacrosse stick so far up your butt you'll be catching the ball with your mouth!"

"Such a sweet puppy, isn't he? I miss Isaac, anyone else miss Isaac?"

Malia rolled her eyes and slapped Stiles on the back of the head. "Pathetic, you get your kicks picking on Freshmen."

"Hey, it's a wolf eat wolf world out there. I'm just toughening the kid up. Building character."

"You wanna' go, Stilinski? Let's go?" Liam stood up and took an aggressive stance, "I'll teach you some character."

"Ah, _no_. You see, I'm not the muscle of this operation, I'm the brains. You don't put your brain in a boxing match, because that's why so many boxers have brain related complications and injuries."

"Liam, forget it." Jordan smirked, "Stiles is just being himself, annoying and rude."

"Well excuse me, Dudley Dooright."

"I'm Scotch-Canadian, Stiles, be careful what you say." Sean took a deep swig of his _Mello Yellow_ , "Besides, we have too many important things to discuss to be fighting each other."

"He's right. The Benefactor may be in custody, but as we've seen far too often, as soon as one enemy goes down, another takes it's place. We have to stay alert."

"Actually Scott, I was talking about the funeral. It's in two days, and we need to make sure it's safe, well, as safe as Beacon Hills can be." Sean took a long sigh, "And then there's the media. You know they'll be swarming us like flies. The story is already international, I'm getting calls for interviews, and we have to keep our mouths shut about what we actually are... Which will probably involve taping Stiles' mouth shut and locking him in a closet until interest dies down." He paused thoughtfully, "I have another question about this whole thing. When she was being captured, Meredith yelled _'Lorraine'_. Do any of you know of anyone named Lorraine?"

Lydia paled at this, "Lorraine was my grandmother's name... But she was murdered years ago."

"Was she a Banshee too?"

"Of course!"

"Did she know Meredith Walker?"

Lydia looked at her hands, "My Grandmother was very curious about her powers, but she took an almost scientific approach, she wanted to study them, find out how they worked... Unfortunately, her methods were not not entirely ethical, or safe. Meredith Walker was one of her subjects. But they basically tortured her, and she was badly hurt. She never recovered, mentally."

Sean pulled himself from the chair he was sitting in, eyes flashing silver, "Your grandmother _created_ Meredith Walker and you didn't think we _might_ need to know that information!?" He was shaking, his fists were clenched.

"She's dead! She's been dead for years! How could she be involved? I didn't think it was relevant!"

Sean's eyes were totally silver now, "If we had known your grandmother was connected to Eichen House, and had put one of the patients in there..." He could feel his Wendigo teeth sliding into place, "Derek was honest about Peter, _Hell_ , Peter was honest about being there! But you didn't think it was important that your grandmother drove Meredith Walker insane!"

The harsh scent of rage filled the room as Sean began to breathe heavily, his heartbeat climbing rapidly.

Derek's hand firmly gripped Sean's shoulder, "By the time we even suspected Meredith Walker, your family had been killed, The Mute was dead and Garrett and Violet were captured. It wouldn't have changed anything." He looked into Sean's silver eyes, "You've been through so much today, too much. You can't let it destroy you like it destroyed her. You have to fight it, if not for us then for your family. They wouldn't want you to end up like Meredith."

Sean crammed a shaky hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his Ativan. He took out a pill and washed it down with his _Mello Yellow_ , "I-I need to be alone right now. It's too dangerous..." He fairly ran up the stairs and into his room, locking the door.

Everyone looked at Lydia.

"Honestly, I didn't think it mattered." She said desperately. She hadn't expected it to even come up, much less to drive Sean into a frenzy. "i didn't know it would hurt him like that. I swear I didn't."

"I believe you. But you should have told us about the connection, even if seemed like nothing, it could have been important." Scott's voice was gentle, "I don't think that was the whole reason why Sean reacted like he did. He saw _her_ , face to face. He looked into her eyes... God only knows what he saw. " He rested his face in the palm of his hands, "He'll be okay. He has to be okay. He's been through too much to lose it now."

...

The thin woman sat in her maximum security cell, staring at nothing in particular. It was gone now, all of it, though she didn't know it.

Peter Hale, Sean Walcott, Brunski, Werewolves, Wendigo, Banshees, The Mute, The Orphans, the voices, The Deadpool, The Benefactor...

And Meredith Walker.

Gone.

Such strange words.

They held no meaning.

What was a _Brunski_ , anyway?

They'd told her that her name was Meredith Walker.

That was what they'd called her, anyway.

She had no idea if they were telling her the truth. She had no memory of a life before they put her in this cage, only the basic skills of everyday life and a dim knowledge of other people remained.

She felt so empty.

So alone.

Why was she here?

And where was here?

Meredith Walker.

It wasn't a pretty name.

She should have a pretty name.

She did remember one name, however.

 _Willow._

Willow was a pretty name.

 _Yes,_ She decided, _I will be Willow now._

Willow gazed dead-eyed at a world no one else could see.

And Meredith Walker was lost forever on the dark, tumultuous seas of madness.

...

Two days later,

The funeral attendance far outweighed expectations, between media who were covering the story of ' _The Boy Who Came Back From The Dead_ ' and the madwoman who put out multi-million dollar bounties on random people, herself included, to well-meaning strangers who wanted to show support for the poor boy who'd lost his entire family to murder, survived repeated attempts on his life and who still bravely struggled on. The media he could do without, he didn't want any of them looking too closely at the funeral home's burial practices, or the Walcott's eating habits.

No one in The Pack had seen the Walcotts, at least not knowingly, outside of photographs. They lay in three identical caskets. This would be the last time Sean Walcott would ever see their faces in this world.

Michael Walcott was, surprisingly a red-head, with just a few streaks of grey. A tall, well built man, he was fairly handsome, and his facial features closely resembled his sons', and in the photographs they'd seen he also had light green eyes.

Christina Walcott had been an attractive woman, with blonde hair and fine features. She was slender, but as a Wendigo that would not have mattered any more than it did to a Werewolf. It was from her that their children got their blond hair.

David Walcott was barely eighteen. He looked small in that large box, despite having a similar build to his brother. His hair was a lighter shade of blond, his young face already showing laugh lines. Sean had said he'd been a jokester. Unlike his parents, his arms were at his sides, in the darkness of the closed portion of the casket. This was done to hide the fact that several fingers had been reattached and his hands had needed stitching. That was proof enough that The Mute had lied about them begging for their lives, he'd fought bravely, but unarmed against a well-trained professional killer armed with a knowledge of Wendigo and several Tomahawks, he hadn't stood a chance, Wendigo or not. His body had displayed the most wounds. Everyone, Sean included, seemed to linger a moment longer beside his casket than the others, death seemed like such an unnatural thing, and when it came to someone so young, it was an even greater tragedy. He'd barely begun to live before he was ruthlessly cut down.

Finally everyone took their seats for the service, and heard from a few friends of the family about each of the dead.

Finally, it was Sean's turn.

He stood and walked slowly to the podium, praying he wouldn't have another panic attack.

He didn't.

He spoke about his brother's sense of humor and desire for adventure, his mother's kindness, his father's generosity and the wisdom they'd all imparted to him, in one way or another. He made no direct mention of how they died, only to say it was 'for nothing, senseless, without reason at all'. Nor did he mention The Mute or The Benefactor. He did not want anyone to mention them at the funeral, he'd made that clear beforehand, they would not dirty the funeral with even a reference. He did not talk about his survival or suffering, either, aside from saying he'd been 'blessed'.

When he finished everyone was in tears.

Finally, after the burials, when everyone went home, Sean Walcott went up into his bedroom at the McCall's house and practically collapsed on the bed, drained physically and mentally. He undressed slowly until he was in his boxer briefs, took his medication, and went into a peaceful sleep.

...

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

Survival

Chapter 19

Welcome to The Jungle

...

"No, Sean, it's alright..."

"Mrs. McCall, you've given me a place to stay, protection from hunters, medical care, and enough food to feed an army. You and Scott have been there when I needed help the most. The least I can do is help out."

Melissa McCall didn't want to take the boy's money for simply treating him decently, but at the same time the bills were piling up, bill collectors were calling, feeding a family of three was becoming more expensive than she remembered and he actually had a fair amount of money from his inheritance. "Okay Sean. We'll call it room and board, how's that?"

Sean smiled one of those rare smiles that actually displayed his perfect teeth, "That sounds great! I owe you guys my life, the least I can do is help out."

Melissa found herself smiling at Sean's enthusiasm. Despite all of the trauma of the past few weeks, he was beginning to display a more happy, playful side. He still suffered panic attacks and night terrors, but they were growing rare thanks to the medication and counseling, and he seemed to be moving on as best he could.

She gave a mischievous smile, "So, how would my favorite son like a ham tonight?"

"Sounds good to me."

Scott pouted nearby in mock jealousy.

"Better get two," Scott warned, "Or we won't be having any."

"Most teenage boys are hungry most of time, but teenage Wendigo boys..." She ran a hand through Sean's carefully combed hair, "Are an army unto themselves."

...

Around 10:00 PM

 _The Jungle_

Sean looked at the fake ID (Glenn McCuen, age 23) nervously, "Guys, isn't this illegal?"

"Don't worry about it," Stiles threw an arm around Sean's shoulders, "We do this all the time. The bouncers know us, they don't give us any trouble. Besides, you look old enough to drink."

"The only thing I'm drinking is water or lemonade. I'm a Wendigo, not a Werewolf, I _can_ get drunk, and you do _NOT_ want a drunken Wendigo in a night club, or anywhere else."

Almost the entire pack, save the obviously underage Liam were soon waiting in line to get into _The Jungle_. Danny was also there with a kid named Josh Diaz.

It seemed everyone in line was underage tonight.

Sean was wearing his leather jacket, blue jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. He was new to the world of 'clubbing' and didn't plan on making a habit of it, despite the little Stilinski Devil on his shoulder.

"Everyone knows I'm only seventeen." Sean whispered, "I was on the news!"

"Relax and play it cool." Stiles offered. "Hey, maybe you'll find someone other than Willow to share your bed tonight."

Sean nearly dropped his ID, "I told you I'm waiting!" He hissed, "And if I get arrested, I'm turning State's Evidence on you!"

"Snitch!" Stiles muttered.

The bouncer looked at the card, then at the relatively short, incredibly handsome, extremely nervous young man in front of him, "So, _Mr. McCuen_ , you're _23_?"

"Uh... Yeah." Sean mumbled.

The bouncer shook his head and handed back the fake ID, "Go on in..."

The bouncer rolled his eyes, like he couldn't recognize Sean Walcott from the news. But if the anyone had a right to get plastered, he figured it was Sean Walcott.

...

Stiles' earlier predictions proved correct when almost everyone in the club turned to look at the blond newcomer. The only other time Sean had felt so many eyes on him was at the funeral.

But these people were most certainly not mourners.

Sean tried to back out the door but Stiles pushed him forward, "C'mon, live a little."

"I hate crowds!"

"It'll be fun!"

"God, I hope my parents aren't watching this!"

The club was colorful and loud, filled with young people in various states of dress and undress and intoxication. They were dancing, talking or shamelessly making out on the furniture. Flashing lights of various colors hurt his sensitive eyes and he wondered how others with enhanced sight could stand it. The place reeked of sweat, alcohol, arousal, sex (both old and very recent), perfumes, colognes, and dozens of other scents that hit him like a tidal wave.

His mother had warned him about places like this.

Sean looked around for a quiet place and found, ironically, the bar.

As he walked toward the bar an attractive young man with short, spiked red hair wearing little more than a blue-green speedo and some very artistically styled body paint smiled at him, "Hey cutie. Haven't seen you here before."

"I don't get out much. And I'm straight." He hoped he hadn't offended the guy by being so blunt. This was something he had never experienced before, the club, the bar, the dancing and people flirting with him...

"I can tell you're new here, you look like a deer in the headlights. And what makes you think I'm gay and cruising for you?" The guy asked playfully. "I _am_ , of course, but still."

"You called me 'cutie'." He smiled, "I always get _The Gaydar False Positive_. Just because I'm a single gymnast who loves his pet cat people think I'm gay."

The young man shook his head, "Perfect stereotype, pretty boy gymnast with a cat and no girlfriend. Well, good luck, but I have to warn you, most of these girls prefer women."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm Sean."

"Ian."

"Scottish?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Second generation. My family is-" He frowned, "My family _was_ Scotch-Canadian. My dad was from Scotland."

Ian noted the use of past tense when referring to Sean's family, and suddenly recognized him as the boy from the news whose family had been murdered by a lunatic with an axe or hatchet or something. The one who'd miraculously survived being stabbed in the back and declared dead. He resisted the urge to say anything, Sean had probably come here to forget his trouble for a while, not be reminded of it.

"Canadian, huh? How do I know you're not a spy for the Canadian government?" He asked teasingly.

"Why, do you have any Top Secret government secrets you're keeping secret?"

"Only one. The U.S. government is in collusion with alien reptilians who want to harvest us as food and slave labor."

"Oh, that. We have those in Canada too. Moose, deer, wolves, Loups-Garou, Sasquatch, The Wendigo and reptilians posing as government officials. I don't worry too much, the Wendigo like the taste of reptile."

They both laughed, Ian totally unaware that he was talking to an actual Wendigo.

"Wait, what's your cat's name?"

"Willow."

"Are you _sure_ you're straight?"

"Yeah, pretty sure."

The youth shook his head, "All the cute ones are straight..."

...

Sean made his way to the bar and sat down.

He, Sean Walcott, was sitting in a bar.

That served alcohol.

In a night club.

Underage and carrying a fake ID.

When he died, his parents were going to murder him.

The bartender, a handsome, brown haired young man wearing only tight black leather shorts, approached him.

"Aren't you that Walcott kid?"

Sean nodded. He had no intention of buying alcoholic drinks, so they had no need to see his ID.

"Yeah. Sean Walcott."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Rex. First time here?"

"Yes."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. If anyone causes you trouble, they'll be out on their asses."

"Thanks, Rex."

"Now, What would you like to drink?"

"I'm on medication, so I better just stick to ice water and a lemon wedge. I don't suppose you have any lemonade?"

"We have some, but it's alcoholic. Sorry. I could have some made, but it would take a few minutes. I'll bring you some water while you wait."

"That would be nice."

...

Sean looked around the room. Danny and Josh had lost their shirts somewhere and were out on the dance floor, Malia was slinging Stiles across said dance floor, Scott was dancing with Lydia and Brett was at a table drinking with Mason, when both of them were far too young to even set foot in the door, much less drink. In fact, he didn't remember Mason being with the group when they came in...

Good thing Werewolves don't get drunk, or the whole Pack would be useless tomorrow.

Sean figured he and Liam would be the only ones without alcohol poisoning by midnight, which was a shame.

He smiled wickedly as he thought of what Stiles' morning would be like.

"Here's your lemonade." Rex set the glass in front of him, "And, a word of warning, most of these kids are good kids, but a few won't hesitate to put a little something _extra_ into someone's drink to get them to bed. So watch your glass and don't accept _any_ food or drink anybody but the bar offers you."

Sean nodded gratefully, "Thank you."

Sean sat at the bar, drinking his ice water and poking at the lemon wedge with his finger when he heard a familiar voice, "Sean Walcott, I never thought I'd see you here."

"Donovan? Donovan Donati?"

"That's me." Donovan was a fellow Wendigo Sean had met a few times in his family's limited social structure, "Ice water, huh? Wise choice."

"Yeah, I didn't want to come, but Stiles can be very persuasive. Now I'm a criminal..."

"Stiles? _Stiles Stilinski?_ You hang out with that dirt bag?" Donovan did little to hide his distaste. The Donati family didn't get on well with the Stilinskis. Sean didn't know the specifics, something about Mr. Donati, Don's father and sheriff Stilinski, Stiles' father.

"He's a jerk sometimes, definitely a bad influence, but he's part of The Pack."

" _The Pack?_ I was wondering why you smelled like a wolf. That's what threw me off when I came in."

"They saved my life, took me in when I had nowhere to turn. They've sacrificed a lot for me, and put up with my problems. I'm proud they consider me a member of The Pack. And _no_ , I wasn't bitten."

"I'm sorry about what happened, with your family and all..."

Sean looked into the melting ice cubes, the flashing lights in the club glittered off of them a kaleidoscope, "Yeah. So am I."

"I guess we should call you _'Dances With Wolves'_ now?"

Sean nearly spit out his lemonade laughing.

...

Someone sat next to Sean, and he turned to look right into the frowning face of Derek Hale.

"Oh crap." He squeaked.

"Who's The Grumpy Cat?" Donovan asked.

"Derek Hale, this is Donovan Donati. He's a family friend. Donovan, this is Derek, A.K.A. The Big Bad Wolf You Do Not Want To Mess With."

"Derek Hale? I've heard of you. I'm not causing any trouble or anything, just talking." He looked at Sean, "I didn't know you were seeing Derek Hale!"

"We're not a couple." Both said simultaneously.

"He's kind of my Guardian Angel-wolf. He makes sure I'm safe and helps me out a lot. I'd probably be in Eichen House if not for him. Why are you here, Derek?"

Derek simply snorted in answer, "I came to drag Brett's 16 year-old butt out of here. 18 is one thing, 16 is another. I didn't expect to see you."

"Neither did I. Stiles wants to 'corrupt' me."

"And what do _you_ want?"

"For those freaking lights to stop burning my eyes!"

"You want to come with me? I'll have to nab Mason too. How the Hell he got in here I don't know."

Sean considered it.

"No. I think I'll just talk to Donovan for a while. Wendigo to Wendigo."

"Okay. Do you have a ride home?" Derek glanced over at Brett and Mason, who looked about to bolt.

"I can drive him." Donovan offered, "I'm about clubbed out too."

"That's fine." Sean said, "I'll ride with Don."

"Okay, I have a couple of 16 year-olds to catch, if you'll excuse me."

"Need a hand?"

Derek wasn't sure if he could trust this Donovan, but Stiles would probably be here until 4 AM.

...

A few short minutes later Derek Hale walked out of _The Jungle_ carrying a struggling Brett Talbot thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while Sean pulled Mason out by the arm. Careful of his flailing legs, Derek threw Brett into the back of his Camaro and Sean pushed Mason in after him.

"Sorry guys, but if Liam can't come, neither can you."

Brett was cursing up a storm and Mason was begging Derek not to call his parents.

As soon as the door was shut there was a sound of metal striking asphalt, then something exploded near their feet. A thick, odd-smelling, greasy smoke began filling the area.

"Wolfsbane!"

Derek fell to the ground choking as Brett and Mason exited the other side of the car, where the air was still clear.

The hunter smiled, he'd probably just bagged two, maybe three Werewolves. Now all he had to do was finish them off.

Shapes moved within the thick, pungent smoke, moving steadily towards him. The blond kid from the pack. Behind him the dark-haired youth carried an injured Derek Hale into the fresh air.

Neither had a mark on them.

"How? That was concentrated wolfsbane oil! You should be-"

"You honestly thought _I_ was a Werewolf?" Sean smiled grimly, revealing his large, sharp teeth as his eyes flashed silver. "Sorry to disappoint you."

 _Wendigo!_

The dark-haired young man looked up with similar bright silver eyes and large teeth.

 _Two_ of them!

He reached for his silver knife.

Wendigo were immune to wolfsbane, but silver could hurt them.

Sean, still smiling, moved like lightning, punching the hunter in the face, knocking the blade from his hand.

The force of the blow knocked out several teeth, and the hunter collapsed to the asphalt.

"You have all the hunting skills of Elmer Fudd, you know that? You shoulda' stuck to hunting wabbits." He mimicked the character's voice.

The younger Werewolf, the one they'd carried to the car, was immediately on the hunter's chest, claws at his throat, "I've had really bad night already, so either you stay still, or I cut your face off. Understood?"

Donovan and Mason rushed Derek inside, the 'guest rooms' had showers, and they could wash the poison off there.

Sean and Brett stayed behind to guard the hunter.

"You do know you're on Argent hunting grounds, don't you?" Sean asked as he dialed the police. "They don't take kindly to poachers. Neither do we."

"Screw you!"

"Why is every guy I meet trying to get me into bed?" Sean quipped.

"Because you're hot." Brett answered. "But, like I said, I prefer dark meat."

"Why are Wendigo running with Werewolves? Some kind of an alliance?" The hunter asked.

"Because of stupid, bigoted people like you." Brett snarled.

Lydia, Malia and Kira rushed outside while Scott and Stiles rushed to help Derek.

"Are you alright, Brett?" Malia asked, standing a safe distance from the rapidly dissipating smoke.

"I'm alright, it didn't hit me, the car door was closed and I slipped out the other side."

" _I'm_ fine too, thank you." Sean added. "Derek?"

"I've already called Deaton," Lydia replied, "The shower should get most of it off his skin, but we'll need Deaton if he swallowed any of it."

"Could you watch this idiot? I need to check on Derek."

"Alright."

...

Derek was sitting on the floor of a grungy shower in a dirty room that smelled of sex and countless people. Sean practically had to hold his nose.

"How is he?" He asked Scott.

"Wet and miserable." Derek replied, "Sitting in a filthy shower in a filthy room. I'm going to sue that guy, he ruined a perfectly good leather jacket."

"And you'll need your car washed." Stiles added helpfully.

Derek just groaned and shot him a look that would put Medusa to shame.

Sean looked down at his own leather jacket, wondering if wolfsbane would come off. Judging by the greasy residue, he doubted it. He'd probably have to toss a perfectly good jacket because of an idiot hunter who couldn't tell a Werewolf from a Wendigo.

Derek skin was red and covered in small blotches, like a combination of a sunburn and a rash. Wolfsbane seemed to act almost like an acid to Werewolves.

"Could've been worse. He could have used _Mountain Ash_. Then we'd _all_ be dead." Sean pointed out.

Deaton hurried into the room with a medical kit while police sirens began blaring outside.

 _Crap._

Everyone at the station knew Sean, knew he was underage and knew he shouldn't be here.

He was going to murder Stiles.

Sean took off his jacket and threw it on the bed, if someone who wasn't a Werewolf wanted it, they could have it.

...

Sheriff Stilinski looked at his son and shook his head. "I get called to an attack at _The Jungle_ and what do I find, a club full of underage kids, and my delinquent son leading the party! God, this is a perfect _Stilestastrophy!_ Do you know how bad it looks for a sheriff to have his officers name an entire _department_ of criminal activities after his son?"

"Uh... Well, you see, Sean has never been out, like, _anywhere_ , so we decided to take him to _The Jungle_ -"

"He's seventeen and carrying a fake ID that I know _you_ printed! I'm sure just about everyone here has a fake ID you printed!"

"Don't worry about Sean, he's so uptight he just drank lemonade and ignored anyone who hit on him. He's like a frickin' saint or something."

"And you're The Devil with The Forbidden Fruit. I know you Stiles. I can't press any charges because there are so many kids here and I really don't have the time, jail space or manpower to deal with it." He turned to the crowd, "Everybody who didn't come here in a vehicle with Stiles Stilinski or Lydia Martin can go."

The crowd scattered, leaving only The Pack, Donovan and Mason behind. The hunter had already been transported to the town jail, the knife would be enough for assault with a deadly weapon, explaining the wolfsbane grenade would be another matter entirely.

He looked over to where Deaton, Sean, Brett and the Donati kid were looking over a soaking wet Derek Hale, "We'll talk more about this at home, Stiles."

He walked over to them, of the group from the club only Derek and Donovan were legal to be here.

"Donati, thanks for the help, but you can go home now. I really am grateful for your help, God only knows what would have happened if he'd been alone." He patted Donovan on the back in a friendly manner.

"Maybe we can talk later, Sean." Donovan said, "I'm glad you weren't too badly hurt, Mr. Hale. Bye Brett, Mason." With that he walked to his car, ignoring the sheriff.

Stilinski sighed sadly, that kid would never forgive him for not letting him join the force. He didn't seem like a bad kid, but Donovan was mentally unstable, and he couldn't trust someone with his issues with a firearm and a badge.

"Is he going to be alright, Dr.?" The Sheriff asked.

"He'll be fine, once his temper goes down."

Derek turned to glare at him.

"He was just here to get Mason and Brett out," Sean added, "He didn't want them drinking."

"I don't want you drinking, either, Sean. Or Stiles, or any of the others."

Sean swallowed hard, he knew Mrs. McCall would be disappointed in him, even if nothing happened and he hadn't drank a drop, he had still used a fake ID to get into a night club.

"Sean, is Donovan Donati a Wendigo?"

"Sir, with all due respect, even if he was, he wouldn't want me to tell you. Wendigo are private people for a reason. It's too dangerous for people to know what we are, if one is uncovered an entire community can be wiped out. I helped catch Patrick because he was a killer, and I'd help catch other Wendigo if they were killers, even though it makes me feel like a traitor. But I won't go around pointing fingers at other people. People who haven't done anything wrong besides being born as Wendigo."

Sheriff Stilinski understood that, in a way. If word got out that your neighbors were cannibalistic monsters most people wouldn't wait to see if they were harmless or not, they'd kill them.

"Okay Sean, you're right. Fear, hate and ignorance cause a lot of the problems I have to deal with and the suffering I see. I won't ask questions like that again, unless the person is a suspect in a crime that relates to your, uh..."

"Dietary restrictions?" Sean provided.

"That'll work."

...

Melissa McCall wasn't surprised that Scott had been caught with a fake ID, _again_. But she was surprised that Sean had been. But she was holding both cards in her hands as proof. Mr. Tyler Posey and Mr. Glenn McCuen, A.K.A. Scott McCall and Sean Walcott.

This had _Stiles Stilinski_ written all over it.

And what kind of family name is _'Posey'_?

"So, Tyler, Glenn, what do you have to say for yourselves?"

Sean had his head hung in shame and Scott looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"That's what I thought."

"Sean has never even been to a party, so Stiles and I decided to take him to one."

"Why not just throw him a nice, clean party here? Or at a friend's house?"

"No offence, mom, but it's hard to have a fun party with mommy looking over your shoulder every five minutes."

"So you took him to a nightclub? An 18 and older night club that serves alcohol and has rooms in the back for kids to-"

"He didn't drink anything but water and lemonade, and the only person he talked to was the bartender and another Wendigo."

"There was also Ian, that kid who hit on me-"

"Dude! Are you _trying_ to get yourself in trouble?" Scott hissed.

Melissa almost laughed, _how_ could a kid as honest as Sean break the law by using a fake ID?

"He left with Derek, Brett, Mason and Donovan Donati about 15 minutes after we got there. Derek was going to take Brett and Mason home, and Sean was going to ride with Donovan."

Melissa's eyes widened a bit, "Donovan Donati is a Wendigo?"

Sean inhaled sharply, but didn't answer. Which was an answer in itself.

"Whatever the case, _he's_ old enough to drink, neither of you are old enough, and Brett and Mason are way too young..."

"We didn't know Mason would be there, and we didn't bring him. And we know they're too young, that's why Derek was taking them home. He offered me a ride, but I was going to go with Donovan and talk for a while, then come home."

"Well," She sighed sadly, "I guess I have to spank you both."

Sean paled, then reddened with humiliation.

He silently prayed that she'd let him keep his pants on.

"Sean, I'm joking."

He threw back his head and gave a great sigh of relief.

"But you do have to be punished." She wanted to draw it out, scare them a little, but Sean's anxiety issues made that dangerous, both mentally and physically. Stress he did _not_ need. "When I come home tomorrow I want this house cleaned from top to bottom, including the attic. But don't bother with the basement. Believe me, this is a lot kinder than what John is going to have Stiles doing."

'Aw, Mom!" Scott whined.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Sean, you're as bad as Greenberg." Scott hissed.

"That Greenberg boy happens to be very nice and well-behaved. You could learn a lot from him."

"Yeah, he's great at kissing a- I mean, kissing up."

"For that young man, you get the bathrooms."

Sean resisted the urge to smirk. Scott and his mouth, almost as bad as Stiles.

"Now you two go to bed, you have school tomorrow Scott and you need the rest, Sean. Don't do this again, either of you."

"Yes Ma'am." Both boys replied.

"And Sean, take a shower first. You're covered in wolfsbane. Set your clothes to the side so I can wash them separately."

"Yes Ma'am."

Melissa gave Scott one last glare before heading to bed.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Glenn McCuen was 23 when he played teenage Sean Walcott. Sean in this story is 17.

Yes, the fake ID's had the actor's names, so Scott was Tyler Posey and Stiles was Dylan O'Brien.

Sean is not homophobic, he's mildly demophobic, (fear of crowds), and he's not used to interacting with strangers, much less people who are hitting on him.

You shouldn't drink underage, Derek only allows it because they'd just go somewhere more dangerous to get liquor and Werewolves can't get drunk. Using and making fake ID's is also illegal. You can go to jail for both. And DO NOT mix alcohol and medicine!

Josh Diaz is the young Chimera who was seen chewing on the electric cables to the hospital building until Theo killed him.

I made Donovan Donati a natural Wendigo because I think The Dread Doctors went to work with what they had. I have no idea what, if anything, Josh was supposed to be before becoming a Chimera.


	20. Chapter 20

Survival

Chapter 20

Into the Lion's Den

...

"Everybody," Sean said, slightly nervously, "I was thinking. Our - I mean _my_ , house is huge. It might be easier to hold pack meetings there."

"Sean, I'm not sure that's such a good idea." Scott replied.

"I mean, I was thinking, it might actually help me, you know? To get used to being there again. And it really would be a good place for meetings, especially as The Pack grows."

"That depends on whether or not you're cooking." Stiles said, "When a Wendigo invites you over for dinner, it's usually a good idea to decline the invitation."

Sean didn't dignify that with a response.

But Scott, Derek and Brett growled at Stiles while Malia shot him a death glare and bared her fangs. Liam's eyes were glowing yellow, and Lydia was shaking her head in disgust.

"What? What did I say?" Stiles asked, "Okay, so cannibal jokes are in bad taste-"

"Stiles, if you make one more cannibal joke I swear to God I'll rip your head off." Brett snarled. "Now _Shut. The. Hell. Up._ "

"It's alright," Sean said softly, "It's something I'll have to get used to. I _am_ a Wendigo. And I know he doesn't really mean to be hurtful, he just has diarrhea of the mouth." Stiles opened his mouth to object but quickly thought better of it. Sean smiled slightly, "Besides, if you kill Stiles, who will we use for bait when we're out hunting monsters?" Despite what Derek had said, Sean was beginning to feel like the 'Pack Puppy', babied and protected. He needed to get back on his feet, to get stronger. He was grateful that the others cared, but he was embarrassed no one seemed to think he could handle himself, or take a little pain. He was an orphan, traumatized, scared and slightly pathetic, but he wasn't totally helpless or made out of glass. He decided to change back to the original subject. "Most of you have been in my house already, you know it has a lot of room. But the top bedrooms are off limits, and nobody goes into David or my parent's rooms."

"I don't know if I _could_ go back." Lydia replied, "I'm a Banshee, I sense death. Between your freezer and the murders, I get very unsettled in your house. No offence."

"None taken. So do I." Sean sighed, "That's the problem. I can't walk into my own house without hearing The Mute taunting me or my mother screaming..."

Everyone, even Stiles, was silent for a moment.

Scott intervened, "Sean, if you want to move back and need someone to stay with you at first, I'm sure some of us could stay over for a while."

Sean blushed. He needed his friends nearby to be able to even enter his own house.

Of course, he had excellent reason, as his family had been butchered by a inhuman monster and he'd nearly been killed in that very same house.

"It's still way too early to move back, I know that. And I really enjoy staying here. It's nice having a... Having a mother around, even if she's not... mine." God, he sounded pathetic, even to himself. But he was new to this whole 'sole survivor of a murdered family' thing. "But I want to be able to one day walk through my own front door without breaking into a panic attack. I can't let that mouthless freak do that to me."

"There's something else you need to consider, Sean. _School._ "

Sean slumped visibly. There was no avoiding it, he would have to finish his senior year in public school.

"We've already gone over the paperwork and taken the placement test. I'll be starting Monday as a senior at Beacon Hills High. I still don't like it it, throwing a Wendigo with panic attacks, demophobia and little self-control into the lion's den of high school could be a disaster."

"Like I said, The Pack will keep an eye on you the best we can, like we do with Liam-"

Liam blushed and looked at the floor.

"So if you start to lose it, at least one of us should be nearby."

"Would one be enough?" Sean asked seriously. For all of their ingrained passivity, a Wendigo of Sean's size had the strength, speed and agility to match an Alpha Werewolf blow-for-blow. And Sean's gymnastic and acrobatic talents made him far more agile than an average Wendigo. "Of course, it seems the entire boy's lacrosse team is made up of supernaturals of one kind or another."

...

The Scientist examined the bizarre skull with interest. No trace of mandibular development. Astomi. He'd not been able to study the Astomi due to their rarity and the ridiculous nature of most available works on the subject. Creatures who consumed only sweet scents and could be killed by pungent smells? Pure hogwash. The subject consumed liquids and nutrients through the tube found near the remnants of the upper esophagus leading to a small, sterile, sterile storage device. There were some deep lesions in the skull, evidently caused when the subject was mauled to death by an unidentified 'animal'. They had a disproportionate number of 'animal attacks' in Beacon Hills. Rumors of Werewolves, Demons and other Bogeymen seemed to hold more merit in that small town.

Because they were true, of course. But that was beside the point.

The remains had been found by a gentleman who'd stopped on a wooded road to relieve himself. Once the decaying cadaver was in the morgue, it was easy to gain custody of the unclaimed, and evidently unwanted, corpse. After taking tissue samples for study and genetic testing he'd had the flesh removed and the skeleton cleaned and sanitized.

 _The Mute._ A fitting epithet for a man without a mouth. So this was the creature that had butchered most of the Walcott family and ruthlessly hunted down and nearly killed their youngest member. The one that had dared attack Peter Hale.

With tomahawks of all things.

Serial killers could be annoyingly eccentric in their use of weapons.

Most of the murders in the hospital massacre, as well as the Steiner boy, Aiden's murder at the school, had been committed by killers wielding _katana_.

He still wondered what _that_ was all about. Even the Steiner boy's twin, Ethan, refused to discuss it with the police, or, more likely, the police did not record his statement. Though rumors had reached his ears of a demonized Stiles Stilinski being involved, as well as 'Dark Samurai'. The fact that Stilinski was briefly institutionalized shortly afterward lent credence to that theory.

There was an old historical account he had read, from the dark days of WWII, of a woman in an internment camp for Japanese Americans summoning an evil, chaotic demon called Nogitsune, which ravaged the camp, slaughtering soldiers and internees alike, then doing the same at the nearby Eichen House Asylum and eventually the small settlement of Beacon Hills itself before being captured and contained.

That _was_ interesting. But he didn't dare meddle with demonic forces, he lacked the power to fight, much less control, such an entity.

Still, Sheriff Stilinski was hiding a great deal.

For instance, he claimed that officer Johnson was killed by The Mute, while an autopsy clearly revealed to even the most idiotic of observers that the man's neck had been broken, his intestines ripped out and partially devoured by something with very large, very sharp teeth. The Mute had neither teeth nor mouth, it was impossible for him to have cannibalized the man. No, this was something else.

Something that left bite patterns suspiciously similar to a Wendigo.

And when Sean Walcott's 'corpse' had been taken from the rooftop he'd had blood and gore on the _front_ of his clothing and in and around his mouth. Despite the cause of 'death' being a single blow to the _back_ with a tomahawk. He'd been declared legally dead, then awoken in the morgue, shortly after this 'miracle' a young woman's corpse that had been stored near his body was 'accidentally' sent for cremation, causing a bit of understandable scandal toward the police department and the coroner's office.

The most likely conclusion based on these facts was that Sean Walcott and his family were Wendigo.

Not that it really mattered to him. Nor did the police department's cover-up trouble him. Young Walcott had been fortunate that the blade struck so relatively lightly. He _was_ somewhat curious why the Sheriff and at least one of his deputies, as well as the coroner, not only hid the cause of officer Johnson's death, but took no steps to prosecute, or in any way punish, Sean Walcott.

It was probably pity. A useful weakness to be exploited. The boy had been in a berserk state of hunger, no doubt, enhanced by his traumatic loss, and the Sheriff could not find it in his heart to punish him. After all, it was, technically and legally speaking, a crime committed by reason of insanity.

But such things were outside of his true range of interest. He'd already thoroughly studied Wendigo in great detail.

He set the skull on a shelf and went to his desk, reading over everything he had learned from The Mute's remains. He had not been killed by a Wendigo, they lacked the claws to leave such terrible wounds on bone, more likely it was a Werewolf.

The most logical suspects were Peter or Derek Hale, and, given Peter's past history of violent insanity, he assumed the former had killed him in revenge for putting a tomahawk through his chest.

Not that he particularly cared. The Mute, beyond his intriguing physiological anomalies, was a nonentity, of no importance in the grand scheme of things, save, perhaps, his role in a Wendigo being adopted into a pack of Werewolves.

He sat back in his chair and let out a sigh.

He himself could easily avoid the attention of the police while conducting his experiments, dense as the local law enforcement was, but The McCall Pack, especially the Stilinski boy and the Banshee, were more than competent at investigations. They were the ones who unmasked Meredith Walker as The Benefactor, after all.

Poor Meredith, spending the rest of her life thinking she's Sean Walcott's cat Willow.

The mind is a fragile thing.

That made things so much easier.

...

Monday morning,

Sean Walcott stepped out of Stiles' jeep and watched the students loitering about or entering the school proper.

Beacon Hills High.

Or, as it was known in some circles ' _Horror High_ '.

He was surprised that after all of the murders committed in relation to the school, or on school grounds, that anyone let their children attend.

Scott put a hand on his shoulder, "Take it easy, Sean. Nothing to worry about, most of them are just ordinary kids, bored as Hell and they don't want to be here any more than you do."

"I'll bet the teachers don't want to be here anymore than we do." Sean replied, "What am I going to do when I have to pass the spot where _He_ died?"

"Remember that he is dead and that you are safe, from him, at least."

"Hey! Sean!" Sean turned to Danny Mahealani with his arm around Josh Diaz, his other arm waving, "Welcome to Beacon Hills High!"

"Thanks! I hope everyone is this friendly."

"I wouldn't hold my breath." Danny replied, "We have some real douche-bags here, but judging from your muscles you could take most of them easy."

"If I was a fighter. Which I'm not. I'm not a pacifist, but fighting really isn't my thing." He grinned, "Can't risk damaging a face like this, can I?"

"Yeah. It might hurt your future chances of modeling for _Abercrombie & Fitch_." Danny grinned, showing off his famous dimples.

"Or _GQ_."

"Or _Playgirl_." Stiles added.

"I'd buy that issue." Danny smirked.

Josh punched him in the arm, "Jerk!"

"Hey, I'd share..."

As they argued, Sean and Scott headed into the main building. Sean caught the scents of cigarettes, pot, sweat, sex, bad hygiene, chewing gum, a variety of foods, arousal, anger, fear, frustration, blood and enough perfume and cologne to kill an elephant.

Super-powers aren't all they're cracked up to be.

The place looked totally different during the day, instead of police, angry Werewolves and a mouthless freak drowning in his own blood there were kids bustling up and down the hall, with the occasional adult passing through. He noted the School Security Officer, and hoped she wouldn't be needed, either to protect him and the other students or to protect the other students from him. Sean was uneasy around large groups of people, but he had no choice. He had his medication, (pre-approved by the school nurse, SSO and principle, as long as he didn't try to sell any) in case things got too intense. He prayed that he wouldn't need them, as he would be humiliated if he ended up crawling into a corner and crying his eyes out in front of the whole class.

And he'd be devastated if he killed and ate one or more of them.

He looked down at the small stub he'd been given, "Locker 17-b."

"The 'B' means you have a lower locker, beneath someone else's. They do it to save space, but you'd be surprised what gets dumped on poor kid's heads from the 'A' lockers." Scott said helpfully.

That did little to make him feel more at ease.

They came to 17-b and Sean reached into his bag and pulled out a can of disinfectant, spraying the locker inside and out, then shutting it and putting a new lock on the still empty locker. He would store things in it when it was clean and dry.

He turned heads but generally just kept following Scott to his first class, chemistry. Sean knew a bit about acids, chemical reactions, etc, but had never worked with chemicals himself, except the cleaning kinds and a few his father had taught him and David about in anticipation of his sons' joining him in the family business.

He stopped for a moment and looked down, he was standing in the exact spot he had been in when Peter Hale had ripped The Mute to pieces. He gazed at that section of floor where the mangled body of his family's murderer had lain, watching it being trod upon by unknowing feet.

"Sean, are you alright?" Scott looked concerned.

"This where I was when it happened." His voice was a chilled whisper. He pointed to the spot, "That's where he died."

"Not so loud, dude. The walls have ears around here."

Stiles pushed his way through the students, "Hey, why'd you leave me back there?" He looked down, "Is this where it happened? Must have been a Hell of a cleaning job..."

"How many people have been killed in this building alone?" Sean wondered aloud.

Scott's mind flashed back to Allison dying in Isaac's arms, of Ethan cradling his twin's lifeless body.

"Too many." He said finally.

Sean looked at his watch, "I have to get to chemistry class. I can't be late to my first class on my first day in public school." He sighed, "Stiles, you're a genius-"

"Naturally." Stiles replied.

"If you have chemistry with me, would you help make sure I don't accidentally blow up the classroom or create an gas that turns people into zombies? Because I really hate zombies." He smiled thinly, "We don't need the competition, or for our dinner to eat _us_."

Stiles laughed at that. "First period? I'm there."

"Thanks, Stiles."

The chemistry lab was an explosion of chemical smells, some, like rubbing alcohol and formaldehyde were familiar, others he didn't recognize. He hoped he would be able to endure the stench.

Among the students he knew or recognized were Danny, Josh, Lydia, and, of all people, Ian, though he was wearing considerably more clothing than he had to _The Jungle_.

Alex waved at him cheerfully' and Sean nodded in recognition.

...

"And that's Greenberg over there in the tan shirt. Nothing much to say except he's a suck-up and he's on the lacrosse team." Stiles pointed to a boy in the corner wearing dark Gothic clothes, with long black hair, black nails, piercings in his lip, nose, eyebrow, ears, (and doubtless other places) and black lipstick, "And that's... I have no idea who he is, I've never talked to him.

"I can't believe there's a single person on earth you've met you haven't talked to."

"Hey!" Stiles tactfully shouted, "Goth kid, what's your name?"

Sean face-palmed.

He walked over to the two, "Zack Cross, Stilinski." He turned to Sean, "Aren't you Sean Walcott?"

"Yes. Uh... Nice to meet you." Sean shook his hand.

"Right. You seem like a good guy, so I'll warn you now, be careful around Stilinski. Don't trust him. And don't turn your back on him. _Ever._ " He glared at Stiles.

"Hey, so I pulled a few pranks-"

"Do you even _remember_ what you did to me?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Just watch out for him." Alex kept his eyes on Stiles as he walked back to his desk.

"You sure have a way with people, Stiles."

"What can I say? I just have charisma." He honestly didn't remember the boy.

...

He lived in dread of gym.

Gym class = Locker room = Filthy locker + Other boy's sweaty, filthy clothing, (including underwear and jock straps), thrown everywhere + Open showers with no privacy and about 30 or so sweaty, filthy, naked boys he didn't even know crowding around his nude body + God-only-knows what types of fungus growing on the tiles = Germs and disease. Since gym was his last class and he wasn't on a team, hopefully he could skip the filthy place entirely and just ride home smelling horrible and shower in a nice, clean, private bathroom. He hated being filthy that long, but it was better than the alternative.

But he'd still have to go there to change _into_ to his gym clothes.

 _Crap._

Again.

He had another concern about gym class. He was naturally athletic, stronger, faster and more agile than the other kids his age, and he had endurance. If the coach or whoever was in charge picked up on that, he might find himself pressured to join a team, probably track or cross-country. He did not want to be in the spotlight any more than was absolutely necessary. He was already internationally known for having 'come back to life' after his family was murdered, and he didn't want any more press, even if was good.

Which really screwed up his gymnastic dreams.

The gymnastics club didn't make the news much, being buried by more popular sports like football, soccer and lacrosse. He also worried that the judges might give him 'sympathy votes' rather than look at his actual abilities. He wanted to be judged on personal merit, not personal tragedy. But they were surely professionals who could see past his, well, past. If there was one thing Sean Walcott took pride in, it was his gymnastics skills. He wanted to be the best gymnast Canada had ever produced, even if he wasn't an Olympic athlete. It was the satisfaction of knowing that he had the skill and determination to push his body to the absolute limit and achieve the nearest to perfect form a Wendigo could ever hope for.

...

Lunch.

The Pack sat together for lunch.

Sean, of course, had brought his own. Three baked pork chops. He'd had to make special 'medical' arraignments with the staff to keep his food safely stored away in the faculty refrigerator. It was highly unusual, but he couldn't exactly bring his own refrigerator and meat would spoil quickly.

He needed more meat than a cafeteria pizza could provide. Fortunately for all involved, he would not be bringing human meat to school it was much too dangerous, not to mention disrespectful to the unknowing humans around him. If The Hunger caught him at school, he'd say he was having a medical emergency and have Stiles drive him home, or Derek pick him up and drive him home.

The school already had enough deaths.

"So, Sean, how was your first day so far?" Scott asked cheerfully.

"Now I know why Grumpy Cat is so grumpy."

Liam grinned, "Are you going to die your hair black, start dressing in all black and wear black nail polish?"

"I hate the smell of nail polish."

"Have you met anyone interesting yet? A lot of people are talking." Lydia spoke up.

"Define _'interesting'_ and _'talking'_. I've met some people... That Greenberg guy, I see him everywhere, is he like a quadruplet or something?"

"I've wondered that myself." Stiles said thoughtfully, "You just can't shake him."

"No, he just always seems to be around."

Everyone talked and joked and ate their lunches, explaining to Sean who taught what, who the 'mean' teachers were and who the 'nice' teachers were, pointing out kids to avoid, (with Liam pointing at Stiles), and what not to do.

Insulting lacrosse or the team was a definite no-no. It was Beacon Hill's claim to fame, (besides being the murder capitol of the West Coast and home to numerous supernatural creatures), and people were proud of their team.

And all of the star players except Danny Mahealani, Greenberg and the recently committed Garrett were Werewolves.

Was it fair to the other teams?

Probably not.

But most fans wouldn't care as long as their team kept on winning, and even Werewolves could have off days.

Was it fair for a Wendigo to compete in gymnastics? Perhaps where stamina was concerned it might give him an unfair advantage, but he was about technique, fluid, graceful motion and agility beyond his own capabilities. It was a fairly level playing field, so to speak. It didn't matter how long he had to hold a position if he couldn't take that position in the first place.

So it was fair.

...

It turned out there was at least one member of The Pack in every class he had, for which he was very grateful. As much as he hated being so dependent upon others, he really needed the encouragement and guidance.

He'd also looked through several yearbooks in the library, looking up the people The Pack had lost, members and allies. Aiden Steiner, Allison Argent, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes and a few who'd moved away: Ethan Steiner, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Cora Hale.

The school had an unfortunately high number of students and faculty who had died under suspicious circumstances lately, those grisly murders attached to Jennifer Blake, AKA _The Darach_ , who was herself an English teacher when she wasn't being an evil, murderous, power-hungry Dark Druid preying on kids, teachers and strangers alike. She'd broken the Carver Twins' fused neck in 'Mega-Wolf' form and nearly killed them, swift treatment by Deacon had saved their lives, though it proved only a brief reprieve for poor Aiden.

Sean decided that he didn't like her much.

...

School, in the end, was relatively uneventful. Shuffling from one class to another like drones in a hive, noting the presence of several other non-human students, including a shape-shifting reptilian serpent boy who stated that his kind were most definitely _not_ trying to take over earth. A few Were-beasts. Another Banshee. And he suspected that Josh wasn't entirely human either, though he wasn't sure what he might be.

At one point he actually thought he'd encountered a vampire, but it was just a kid from art class who'd spilled glitter all over himself...

Stupid _Twilight_.

As he now ran with the wolves, he supposed that made him _Team Jacob_ by default.

He'd also found out why Zack hated Stiles, an unpleasant prank involving the latter pouring chocolate pudding down the back of the former's pants, which caused an understandable mistaken assumption and a great deal of public humiliation.

Sean made a note _not_ to turn his back on Stiles.

No vampires, yet. No Clown Apocalypse. No Stiles' induced calamity that destroyed the world.

Just a long day and homework.

...

"Dude, you know, they have locker rooms and showers for a reason." Stiles said, "I don't even have super-wolfie senses and I can smell you from here."

"Do you have any idea what kind of filth can grow in a dark, damp locker room filled with filthy clothes and sweaty bodies? Or in a communal shower? Not to mention freaks with hidden cameras..."

"You're just scared Danny and the others will be checking out that sweet ass of yours." Stiles smirked.

"I think _you're_ more likely to try to rape me, Stiles. You seem to appreciate my 'sweet ass' far more than anyone else."

Scott laughed, "He does have a point, Stiles."

"Shut up, Dog-Breath! Just because I can appreciate a guy's body doesn't make me a rapist."

"I'm joking. But I'm not used to things like stripping naked in front of people, even if they are guys. And I really am serious about the germs and fungi..."

"So you have PTSD, panic attacks, night terrors, demophobia, gymnophobia, germaphobia _and_ OCD."

"What's gymnophobia?" Liam asked. "Sounds like fear of gym class."

"Fear of being seen naked. In gyms in ancient Greece and Rome, athletes practiced and competed naked. Gymnasium can be translated as ' _A place to be naked_.'"

Everyone in the jeep broke out in wild laughter at that.

"So, should we attend gym class naked?" Liam asked, blushing and laughing.

"Why don't you try it, Liam? Give the girls a good show." Brett snickered.

"You mean give _you_ a good show!"

"Like I don't see your puny prick every day in the showers." Brett retorted.

"I'm bigger than you!"

"If you two want to measure do it at home! I don't want to see it."

"I second that emotion!" Stiles shouted.

"Can you imagine a Werewolf with lupophobia? A Werewolf who's afraid of wolves?" Sean tried to change the subject.

"I know a guy who'll let spiders crawl all over him but panics when he sees a cockroach." Brett offered.

"Katsaridaphobia. Any phobia can be terrible, no matter how petty it might sound to others, it's very real to the person who has it, and very painful."

"How can a germaphobe eat corpses?" Stiles asked.

"The same way you eat chicken or pork, cook and clean thoroughly. Though when I'm in The Hunger, nothing can stop it, no matter how filthy or disgusting." Sean swallowed hard, "But I doubt anyone wants to talk about The Hunger, and, if they do, I don't, so don't bother asking."

"Dude, TMI." Liam croaked out, looking suddenly nauseous. "We definitely don't want to know..."

As soon as they pulled into the McCall's driveway Sean jumped out and rushed into the house with a hurried thanks, ready for a hot shower and clean clothes.

Stiles shrugged, "Well, at least he didn't have a panic attack or go _Jaws_ on everybody I'd call that a success."

...

To be continued...

Notes

The Twins were apparently named Steiner in canon. Now I have to find every reference I've made to them as 'Carver' and change it. Forgive me if I miss any of the mistakes.

Glenn McCuen has modeled for _Abercrombie & Fitch_.

As has Cody Saintgnue, who portrays Brett.

And probably Colton Haynes, who portrays Jackson.

The character of Josh Diaz was never shown to be straight or gay. I just used him so that Danny would have a boyfriend. Josh was portrayed on TV by Henry Zaga.

Beware The Clownpocalypse.

The Scientist is _not_ one of The Dread Doctors, this is a different individual. But he's definitely not 'normal'.

Demophobia is the fear of crowds.

Gymnophobia is the fear of nudity, being seen naked or seeing others naked.

Germaphobia, also known as Mysophobia, is a fear of germs and contamination.

Lupophobia is a fear of wolves.

Katsaridaphobia is the fear of cockroaches. I'm the guy Brett was describing, I'll pick up a spider, but freeze at the sight of a roach.

The gymnasium reference is true.


	21. Chapter 21

Survival

Chapter 21

Monstrous Naked Dog Boy

...

Liz ran blindly through the forest, crashing through underbrush, tripping over roots and fallen limbs.

She didn't dare look back.

She couldn't.

Tom. Pete. Samantha.

 _He'd_ taken them all.

 _Why?_

All they'd done was come down to Beacon Hills to make a video about the 'Werewolves' supposed to roam the area.

One thing was for sure, He was _no_ Werewolf.

At least the screaming had stopped.

Hopefully, that meant they weren't suffering any more.

She saw a break in the trees.

Her car!

Adrenaline surging, she cursed His name as she flung herself out of the forest.

And into His waiting arms.

...

"Okay, guys, try _not_ to think about the fact that we're probably going to end up wrestling with a butt-naked 15 year-old boy."

"Thank you Stiles, for that wonderful visual aid." Sean's sarcasm was laced with concern. He was as worried about the boy as anyone else.

"If you have gymnophobia, how are you going to handle this?" Stiles asked.

"I don't have gymnophobia, not any more than most people. I just don't like the idea, and I'd rather avoid it, but if Liam's in trouble I'll have to push that aside. I can't let anything happen to him."

Maybe it wasn't Liam. Maybe it was another 'Monstrous Naked Dog Boy' terrorizing Beacon Hills.

When he came out of his wolfed-out state, poor Liam was going to be embarrassed as Hell, and the others would never let him live this down.

"Over there!" Scott shouted as a blurry figure rushed across the residential street.

The scent was unmistakable.

It was Liam alright.

Stiles parked his jeep awkwardly 'parallel', (half on the sidewalk, half off), and the chase was on.

Sean quickly realized his gymnastic skills were helpful in avoiding suburban hazards like fences and lawn chairs. Leaping, twisting, balancing instead of stumbling around like he would have if not for his training.

Stiles wasn't so fortunate. He was lagging behind.

"Liam!" Scott shouted.

"Do you want to wake the whole neighborhood up!?" Sean hissed, "He has enhanced hearing. He clearly doesn't want to come to us."

"Why" Stiles finally caught up, "Why should he? You tried to eat him and threw him off a building, and you bit him."

There was a growl behind them.

Liam stood there, stark naked, fangs and claws on the ready, crouched to attack.

Three things were immediately obvious to Sean:

1\. Liam was _really_ out of it.

2\. Brett had lied about Liam's size. He was _NOT_ puny or small in the downstairs area.

And

3\. Liam was not happy to see them.

Scott used his red Alpha eyes and commanding Alpha voice to force Liam to back down.

"Liam." He said sternly.

The boy whimpered and fell to his knees as Sean wrapped the blanket they'd brought in Stiles' backpack around him. He began to revert and come to his senses, only to find that he was naked in some stranger's backyard with only a blanket covering him.

He turned the color of a ripe tomato.

"Oh, crap."

...

Liam was sitting on the couch wearing some of Sean's clothes which were only slightly too big, looking highly uncomfortable.

"And why were you naked?" Scott asked.

Liam shrugged, "It was hot..."

Stiles broke out laughing as Sean face-palmed and Liam blushed.

Then came the question they were all dreading.

Except, perhaps, Stiles.

"Did anybody see me?"

Stiles smirked, "Tomorrow morning you'll probably be on the front page. I bet you're all over Youtube by now. A million hits-"

Before Sean's fist could connect with Stiles' jaw, Liam was sobbing.

...

"How was I supposed to know he'd breakdown like that?" Stiles was rubbing the painful bruise on his jaw.

"How do you think someone, especially a kid, is going to react when you tell him every pervert on earth with a computer or cell phone can see him completely naked whenever they want?" Sean was livid. He knew Stiles had a problem controlling his mouth, but this too much.

"It's dark out and most people are asleep. I doubt anyone got any pictures."

"You'd better hope so, and not just for Liam's sake."

"Is that a threat, Sean?"

Sean flashed his silver eyes, "Yes. Yes it is Stiles."

"This isn't my fault!"

"No. It's not. You just made it a million times worse. Other people do have feelings, Stiles. How would you react to what you said?"

"Don't give me that empathy crap, Sean. You're not the only person on earth who's suffered! Yeah, sometimes I screw up like this, but I'm not intentionally trying to drive anybody crazy! Don't tell me you've never said anything you regret!" There were tears in his eyes, "You can't imagine what I've done, what I've been through. I killed my friend's girlfriend! I killed Allison! And I killed Aiden! I killed those people at the hospital! Everything Nogitsune did, everyone he hurt, he did it with my body, so don't you dare talk to me about not caring! And now I've hurt Liam! Do you know how hard it is to just keep on _living_ after all I've done?"

Sean paled and put his hands on Stiles' shoulders, but he pushed him away, "That wasn't you. You're _not_ Nogitsune, you're Stiles Stilinski. You're a first-class pain in the butt, you're not a mass-murdering demon. You had no more control over what he made you do than a man has over... I don't know. It's like someone stole a car and intentionally hit someone. Is that the car's fault? The owner's fault? No. Nogitsune was driving you, Stiles. It's on his hands."

"You don't know what it was like, Sean. As a crazy Wendigo, you were still just a Wendigo. You were overcome by instinct. I was literally possessed by a demon. It taunted me, mocked me, made me smile as my friends suffered and died at my own hands. And it's plans, what it intended to do to everyone... I wanted to die so badly, but he wouldn't let me. He feeds off of pain and fear. I'm surprised I'm not totally insane." He sat down at the kitchen table, "I'm sorry for what I said. But it can't be undone. I just don't think, or I think too much, I'm not sure which. All I know is that I'm probably the biggest smart-ass on earth."

"You're right. I don't know, and I pray I never do. I wasn't there, I didn't see what happened, I didn't know Allison or Aiden or Ethan. But from what I know of you, you would never willingly harm someone. This... _Parasite_ that took over your body is responsible. You're just the car he drove."

"What kind of car?"

"I don't know. You're like that jeep of yours, you've been through a lot, dented, scratched, damaged but you're still running strong."

Stiles arched a brow, "Thanks. I think..."

"It was a compliment. You're resilient. If I had been through what you went through I would never have recovered. I'd be in Eichen House playing cards with Patrick and Garrett... Look, I'm pretty well along the road of hypocrisy, Stiles," Sean admitted, "I should never have hit you, or threatened you. But Liam is my responsibility. He's the result of _my_ crimes. He is the monument to _my_ sins."

"You're paraphrasing the Gravemind from _Halo 2_?" Stile did his best imitation of the character's voice, ' _I am a monument to all your sins_.'"

"I thought it was The Primordial? No? Or were the they merely different appendages of the same gestalt macrocosmic organism?." He shook his head "But that's beside the point. The fact is I screwed up Liam's entire life. I ruined his future. I took him hostage, I threw him off the roof so that Scott had to bite down on his arm to save him. I'm responsible for everything that happens to that boy because of The Bite. I never had as much control as David, he was the social one. The strong one. I often wonder how things would have happened if it was David who'd lived instead of me."

"And the reason you were in the hospital in the first place, the reason you were starving, insane with grief and had just lost your entire family was The Mute." Stiles let his eyes fall slightly, "I'm responsible for what happened to Liam. Me and Malia encouraged Scott to use a little of his wolfie-powers on the kid. And he did, and Liam ended up in the hospital with a broken ankle. If I, Scott and Malia had just accepted Liam was a good player and played fair, he wouldn't have been in the hospital in the first place for you to kidnap. We ruined his life. And now we're trying to help him put his life back together. But now he'll probably never achieve most of his dreams, for fear of being found out. Paparazzi can find out anything, get info on anyone, he'd be outed first full moon."

"Then we all ruined his life together. Who knew packs could be this dysfunctional?"

"No one here is just one person's responsibility. That's why we're called a pack, we don't just run through the woods fighting evil freaky monsters/dark druids/hunters. We bond. We become a family, and we all look out for each other." He touched his sore jaw, "Even if they happen to sucker-punch you in the face."

They walked back into the living room to find that Scott had managed to calm Liam down enough to avoid having the furniture shredded by an adolescent Werewolf with anger issues and a deep-seated inferiority complex.

"Liam. I'm sorry man. I was acting like a real ass. I shouldn't have said that-"

"But it's true." Liam said softly, 'Everyone carries a cell phone, anyone could have filmed me."

"I'm a master hacker, you know. If anything surfaces, I'll squash it like a bug."

"Whatever you put online is online forever. And people can download videos in seconds. Every sick pervert in the world will see my junk..." He sniffled and shuddered.

"You were moving really fast, you should be pretty blurry if anyone did see you." Sean said soothingly, "Did you see anyone with a camera or a phone?"

"No, but I was a crazy wolf and not really paying attention."

Sean put an arm around Liam's shoulder, "If anything did happen, and someone gives you trouble about it, I'll hunt them down and eat them."

Liam smiled. "I know. And thanks for punching Stiles."

"HEY! Is this _Pick on Stiles Day_ or something?"

"Yes."

...

The scientist was listening to the police frequencies, among many others. Apparently one of the Werewolves was running around naked through Beacon Hills. His lip curled up in a small smile. Probably the new pup, Liam Dunbar. He had trouble controlling his Wolf.

How have they managed to stay undetected for all these centuries when they're literally running naked through the streets.

Suddenly there was talk of something else, something infinitely more interesting than a pitiful child streaking.

The discovery of four bodies.

It was highly unlikely the culprit was the 'Monstrous Naked Dog Boy' as one resident had so eloquently named him. This had happened in the forest outside of town, the report was just breaking, but the deputy mentioned the bodies being 'arranged in a pattern, like a big triangle'.

So, _he'd_ finally come back.

The experiment could finally begin.

...

Fortunately, it seemed the few people who'd encountered Liam apparently hadn't had time to take any pictures or videos. If they had, nothing turned up on social media about it. Of course, the incident was in the back of people's minds due to the bizarre deaths just outside of town. Bizarre deaths were becoming increasingly common in Beacon Hills, but this one had come with a message.

A note clutched in a girl's cold hand.

 _How can he see us when he has no face?_

 _..._

To be continued...

Notes

Sean punched Stiles to shut him and try to protect Liam. Yes, I had him hit the most popular character on the show. If you want to hate me, do it. I'm sure a lot of people do.

I hate people who take hidden cameras and tape people in the school/public showers or locker room or whatever. That kind of humiliation can scar someone for life. It's even worse when parents intentionally humiliate their children online. That's one of those things I find unforgivable.

A poem, by me:

 _He has no face,_

 _Yet he sees you._

 _You can quicken your pace,_

 _But he'll eventually seize you._

 _You can try and hide,_

 _But he's waiting inside._

 _It does no good to fight,_

 _When The Slender Man stalks through the night._


	22. Chapter 22

Survival

Chapter 22

Underweight and Over-Tall

...

As they pulled into the forested area both Sean and Lydia immediately sensed something was very, very wrong. Everyone felt a little nervous, for no reason they could pin down, but Wendigo and Banshee are naturally attuned to death, and both can feel when it is something outside of their normal experience.

"This is where they found the bodies." Parrish pointed to the chalk lines of bodies that formed a perfect triangle on the asphalt . "Any ideas?"

"Maybe it has some kind of occult significance."

"I don't like it here." Sean said, "This place feels... _Wrong_ , somehow."

"Well, this is where they found the bodies," Scott replied, "We have to check it out."

The smells were only partly what one would expect from a murder scene: Fear, pain, sweat, surprisingly little blood...

The scent of ozone mixed with the forest air, as well as something Sean couldn't quite place. He could feel his heartbeat increasing. He was getting frightened.

'Sean are you alright?" Derek asked.

"No. It's-"

"This place." Lydia interrupted, her voice shaking. "This place is _wrong_. The air. The forest itself. This is a place of death. We shouldn't be here."

Stiles looked from Lydia to Sean, "What about it is wrong?"

Sean began edging back toward the car, "I can't explain it, it's just wrong. I'm not going into the forest. Call me a coward if you like, but I'm _not_ going in and I suggest nobody else-"

" _NO!_ " Lydia shrieked, " _He's_ here!"

"Who's here?" Parrish pulled out his gun as everyone changed form.

Despite his terror, Sean assumed his Wendigo form, though flight was his first priority, _"Let's go!"_

"He's watching us. Waiting!" Lydia's heartbeat was steadily rising, "He knows. He-" She stared for a brief second at something among the trees, and let out a terrified scream.

"We have to get out of here _now_!" Sean shouted.

The Pack retreated, half-carrying the panicked Lydia to her car.

 _He_ watched, silently as they fled.

...

"Lydia, can you tell us what you saw?" Scott asked gently.

Lydia was still trembling with fear, as was Sean, to a less noticeable degree. "It... It was tall. Tall and thin. It looked like a man, but it didn't look like a man at all. It was horrible. It stank of death. It was about eight feet tall, with long, skinny arms and legs, and it looked like it was wearing a black suit. But," She swallowed hard, "It wasn't a suit, it was _him_. I could see things moving behind him, black things, like tentacles, growing from him. He... He had no face. No face at all. No eyes, no hair, no nose, no mouth. And he was so white... Whiter than death. He's seen us!"

"Wait, is it just me, or does that sound like a description of Slender Man?" Stiles asked warily.

"That sounds almost exactly like a description of Slender Man." Derek tried not to think of the implications of a possibly extra-dimensional predator stalking the forests of Beacon Hills.

"Sean, did you see him too?"

"If I had, I'd be heavily medicated right now." There was an undisguised element of fear in his voice, "Besides the whole inexplicable, amoral, inhuman killer that stalks the innocent part, he has no mouth, no face. If I saw another monster resembling The Mute... I'd be out of my mind. Wendigo live close to death, but Banshee are closer. That's probably why Lydia saw him, she has a closer connection to things beyond our world. I could _feel_ the death, but I couldn't _see_ him, thank God."

"What's a Slender Man?" Liam asked, disturbed.

"It's a mysterious creature that resembles a tall, thin man in a suit. He doesn't have a face, and sometimes people see tentacles growing from his back." Sean explained, "He can appear and disappear out of thin air, you can leave him far behind only to find him in front of you. He can make himself invisible to all but one or two people in a group, just to screw with their minds. Wherever he is seen, people start to vanish, or die. If they vanish, they are never seen again. The legends are different in different areas, and there may be more than one of these creatures in existence. No one knows who or what it is, where it comes from, or what it wants besides killing and kidnapping."

"So our killer is The Slender Man? Great, just what we need, a reality hopping bogeyman who kills people." Parrish rubbed his forehead gently. This was bad. As in ' _The stupid kids in the slasher movie enter the abandoned asylum where the inbred cannibals live to throw a party_ ' bad.

"Just because he was there doesn't necessarily make him the killer. He could have been drawn to all the death, or maybe the triangle was a way of summoning him somehow..." Brett said thoughtfully, "Then again, he may have already been here for decades, even centuries, coming out at times of death and destruction, like when that Noshiko Kitsune summoned Nogitsune in the 1940's."

"It's possible he's just a parasite feeding off the death and fear caused by others, but it's unlikely. Wherever he goes, he leaves death in his wake." Kira noted, "The victims could have summoned him, I suppose, but there was nothing magical in the area that I could see or sense." She turned to Parrish, "You said they found cameras?"

"Yes. And inside their car were several books on Werewolves and Dog Men."

"Hunters?"

"College kids looking for the famous 'Beacon Hills Werewolves' more likely." Parrish sighed heavily, "They didn't have any weapons. As much as I know it would have embarrassed you Liam, it's a pity they weren't looking in town that night. They'd have found their Werewolf, been scared off, and ran away."

"My dignity for four people's lives..." Liam thought out loud. He shivered slightly. He didn't want his naked (and underaged) body broadcast to the world but he didn't want people dead, either.

"Liam?" Parrish asked, "Are you alright?"

Sean grasped Liam's shoulder protectively, as Derek often did with him. As a Wendigo, he couldn't drain pain or fear from someone, but he could offer support. Liam just looked at him and nodded a silent thank you.

"He's been _really_ upset that maybe someone got him on tape and would post pictures of him naked online." Scott whispered to him.

Even though it was a whisper, Liam heard the comment clear as day.

"I'm sorry Liam, I wasn't, I wouldn't want that to happen to anyone, especially a kid. That's not what I meant..." Parrish said weakly. It didn't help much.

"They didn't, so it's pointless to ask 'what if?'" Stiles broke in, noting Liam's sudden anxiousness. "The fact is four presumably innocent people were killed looking for Werewolves last night, and whoever did it, supernatural, demonic, or just plain nuts, is still out there. If they had cameras they may have got the killer or killers on film." He paused, "Of course, electrical devices like cell phones, video cameras and flashlights are supposed to be affected by some kind of energy Slender Man gives off. But that's just in some stories. It may not be true, the only way to know is to check the recordings. But that could be dangerous because once you see him he supposedly comes after you..." He trailed off, looking at the terrified Lydia, "That's only in a few stories. Not all of them. Not even most of them. Maybe one or two... I might be thinking of some other creature... Damn, why do I keep saying such stupid crap?!"

"Because you can't control yourself sometimes. It happens to all of us, it just happens to you more often because of your issues." Scott put his arm around Lydia to comfort her, "Don't worry, we'll be here to protect you, if it comes to that."

"Can it die?"

"It may not be evil, Derek," Sean said, both hands resting on Liam's shoulders now, "It may be completely amoral. A creature with a mind so different from ours that we could never understand it's motivations. It might not have motives at all, it might just like arranging dead bodies the way people arrange flowers. Just as we can't imagine how flowers feel when they're cut and arranged Slender Man may not understand human concepts like pain, suffering or even death."

"Whether it can understand us or not, we can't let it keep killing people. Is there any information at all on how to hurt, kill or drive away this monster?"

"I don't know." Stiles admitted, "Mountain Ash _might_ irritate or hurt it, then again, it might not. Magic might hold it or banish it, we'll have to get in touch with Deaton. It might have some totally bizarre weakness like the sound of bagpipes, watching cable news shows or getting covered in toothpaste, I have no clue. So I'll go look it up now." Stiles got online and began researching Slender Man's weaknesses.

"My dad played the bagpipes. I never got the hang of it..." Sean said awkwardly, "They're still at my house. Just, in case, you know..."

Scott looked at the assembled pack, "Okay... What do we do?"

"I have a question." Liam spoke up, "How did they die?"

"One died of fear. The others all had broken necks. According to the initial autopsy report, anyway"

Sean looked over at Parrish, "When I woke up in the morgue, I was starving. I... You know. But the girl I... Was so hungry... She had a broken neck. I didn't see any other injury."

"Lisa Tolstein. Her friends were throwing a wild party at the old saw mill and she wandered off... We never did find out what happened. There were no suspects, and the only sign anything was off was that she was a lot farther into the woods than she should have been when we found her. It was ruled a 'probable accident'."

Sean smiled sadly, "And now you probably never will. She was cremated. What I left of her... God, I hate this Hunger."

For a moment all were silent, digesting Sean's words.

"Do you really think this could be related? That was about two months ago. And broken necks aren't all that uncommon."

"Has anyone else died of a broken neck in the past few months?"

"There was Tom Lane, but he was in a car accident, drunk driver."

"Disappearances?"

"This is Beacon Hills, disappearances happen all the time. We've had four people go missing on us. One was man who was known to be cheating on his wife, I figure he's in the river somewhere with a few bullets in him, but we don't have any evidence. There were a couple of hikers from Arizona who may have got lost in the woods, we found their camp, but never found them. And we found Simon Altman's old pickup truck running on fumes on a county road, like he'd just stepped out and vanished. A few tracks to the treeline and nothing."

"So basically the lesson is 'Don't go anywhere near the woods'."

"I'm going down to the station to see if they found anything on those cameras," Parrish looked at Liam, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I upset you so badly."

"I know."

Parrish cursed inwardly as he looked around the room, Liam was scared and embarrassed, Sean was nervous, Lydia was terrified, Scott was worried, and Stiles seemed to be trying to block everything out.

 _Why the Hell did I get these kids involved in this?_ He asked himself as walked out the door, _They have super powers, sure, but they're still kids. And most of them have serious mental issues already. All this supernatural crap is too much of a burden..._

...

An hour or so later,

"So far all I could find was ' _It's thought given form so think it away_ ' and ' _Give him $20. He needs a twenty dollar bill and thinks people carry them inside their bodies_ '. Not very helpful. I wonder what he needs a twenty for, anyway? To buy Mr. Potato Head facial features? One site said he was made of sand and getting him wet would stop him, but if he lives in the forest in a place that gets as much rain as Beacon Hills, he's pretty well insulated. Several bloggers said the word ' _Volenoie_ ' gets him to leave..." Stiles shrugged, "My best advice, hunker down and pray he doesn't come for you."

"That's my strategy too." Sean said.

"So, _nothing_ hurts this stick man? Silver doesn't do anything? There's no 'Slenderbane' out there?" Scott didn't like the idea of being helpless against a potential enemy.

"We could hit him with one of Greenberg's jockstraps. Even without a nose that should keep him away." Brett snickered.

Sean made a disgusted face and Malia stuck her finger down her throat and made a puking noise.

Derek raised his voice above the fray, "Okay, everyone just shut up and listen. This serious! We don't know if this thing is confined to the woods or not-"

" _Not_. A lot of sightings are around schools, playgrounds, even inside people's houses once he's picked his victim... And you _probably_ had a point to make. Right, I'll just shut up now. Stiles out."

"The point is, we have to stop him."

Stiles shook his head, "Like I said, the best thing, the _only_ thing we can do with this guy is try to stay out of his way."

"Not necessarily," Deaton walked into the living room, "If we can figure out what he is and what he's trying to do, we might find some mystical means of stopping him, perhaps even capturing him, as with Nogitsune."

"Do you have _any_ idea what he is?"

"He's probably an it, it could even be female, or a hermaphrodite. But I think it's one of a group of beings that exist outside of our plane of existence, outside of our natural laws. Unlike Nogitsune, it's not tied to anything and doesn't need a host. It may not even be 'alive' as we understand life."

"So, in other words, you have no idea."

"Correct, I'm afraid," Deaton admitted, "I'm not God. I can't understand _everything_ , and I don't particularly want to. All I can do is guess based on what little evidence I've heard. It doesn't appear to follow natural laws, so it's supernatural, perhaps even from a place our natural laws don't apply. It's like Cthulhu or Nyarlathotep, it's _The Thing That Should Not Be_. It doesn't belong here, it has no place here, and it shouldn't even exist in this plane of reality."

"So why is it here if it doesn't belong. Wouldn't our reality, our natural laws be just as alien, maybe even as frightening to him as his world would be to us? Assuming he has emotions we can comprehend, of course." Brett pointed out.

"Perhaps it or they have no choice. Perhaps they're trapped between here and there. I'm just speculating, I don't know anything concrete except that it exists, and it defies natural law."

"In other words, we're screwed six ways to Sunday." Kira noted, "If it doesn't follow the laws of nature, then we can't stop it, because we're limited by those laws."

"It may be limited by it's own nature. I just don't know enough." Deaton sighed, "I'm going to contact some of my friends, see if they know anything, look through my books. Until then, just stay inside and warn your friends and family not to go into the woods."

...

 _Magic_.

As much as his scientific background rejected the idea, sometimes the most implausible theories were proven correct.

If he were to speak at a meeting of the world's greatest minds and tell them of the existence of Werewolves, Wendigo, Banshees, Kanima and the like he would be laughed off the stage. Even if he brought one of the wolves and had them transform before their very eyes the closed-minded fools would reject the evidence in favor of their safe, comfortable and dusty views of the natural world.

Which was why he rarely interacted with other scientists, or other people at all, for that matter.

The recording devices hidden in the McCall home provided him with an endless string of teenage angst, crying, and the occasional sounds of young Scott and Lydia studying anatomy, so to speak.

He thought on what he knew of the small pack. Sean Walcott was seriously, and quite obviously, suffering from PTSD, OCD and several other mental health conditions. This was understandable, given his recent experiences, and he would probably be better served by admission to Eichen House. Why Dr. McCall, an intelligent physician, couldn't see it he didn't quite understand. Perhaps she was too blinded by his attractive physical appearance.

Scott McCall was a fool who likely couldn't even spell 'Werewolf', yet he was Alpha of their pack. He contributed little more than pitiful rallying speeches and misguided ethical viewpoints. Melissa McCall was obviously an intelligent woman, how it must vex her to have such a cretin for a son!

The Dunbar boy, already stretched near breaking by his I.E.D. and idiotic refusal to take his medication, seemed to be another prime candidate for Eichen House, particularly since Stiles' idiotic comment on his potential planet-wide humiliation. The girl Malia was an odd creature, to say the least, feral and dangerous. Derek Hale didn't speak enough to get a clear picture of his personality, but from what he'd heard from his sources and the tapes indicated he was a brooding misanthrope towards everyone but Sean, as they both shared similar traumatic losses. Lydia Martin was vain but brilliant, unfortunately, having seen Slender Man she was likely to start slipping downhill mentally very quickly.

Brett Talbot was unusually intelligent for a boy his age and was the only member of The Pack without a severe mental illness, aside from Scott, who was merely stupid. He'd discovered the obvious flaw in The Deadpool and uncovered The Benefactor's identity through logic and deduction. He could be very useful if properly motivated.

And then there was Stiles Stilinski. The boy was a veritable encyclopedia of information and a tightly bundled mass of mental illnesses and fear waiting to explode. This Nogitsune creature must have been masochist to invade that fractured mind. Why did wisdom so often come paired with suffering? Stephen Hawking, one of the greatest human minds of the past two centuries, could not even twitch a finger due to the disease ravaging his body. Stiles' genius was shattered and crushed beneath the weight of his mental illnesses and the memory and guilt of having hosted the demon that murdered his friends and several other people. He should be working as chief scientist in some prestigious scientific institution, not following the orders of an idiot and living in crushing despair.

Life was, regrettably, unjust.

But the mental health of The Pack was secondary to his main concern.

Slender Man.

Alan Deaton had made some interesting points, in his own convoluted, uninformed way. The Talbot boy and Walcott had given interesting and thoughtful insight into his theories, he had to grant them that. Sean might be half-mad, but he was also a gifted, if naive young man.

Sean's point about The Slender Man's potentially amoral nature was impressive, doubtless his illustration of cutting flowers was inspired by aiding his father in the preparations for funerals and the upkeep of the funeral home. He'd shown great insight before, not nearly so much as Brett or Stiles, but enough to suggest a keen mind beneath the rage, fear and grief which currently consumed him.

He was very intrigued by Brett's thoughts on the possibility of a separate entity committing the crimes and Slender Man being drawn to areas and situations of death and suffering. It was something he himself would need to investigate, The Scientist was ashamed to admit that an idea conceived by the mind of a sixteen year old lacrosse player/Werewolf was both viable and something he had never considered in his own research.

He also brought up an issue few would bother to consider, what intelligent life forms see as alien and unknowable would most likely consider their observers and environment the same way. The Slender Man, or any other being cast into another plane of existence, would find itself in a world utterly alien to it's own, if unlucky, it might find itself in a realm it could not even perceive, leaving it in the midst of a void, when in truth it was surrounded by... _Something_ with which it could not detect or interact.

Perhaps, once the experiment was complete, he could persuade young Brett into putting his brilliant mind to proper use instead of having it bashed around playing lacrosse.

He did differ with the group on several key issues, however. Assuming Slender Man to be an extraplanar entity, (an unproven theory) not bound by any natural law (speculation), it _could_ conceivably exist in multiple locations at the same point in time. It might be in Beacon Hills California, Lima, Peru, the jungles of The Congo and it's own home reality at the same point in time. To 'kill' such a creature would be impossible, it would simply 'choose' not to manifest any further in a specific location.

He looked over to the skull of The Mute sitting on the nearby shelf. In some ways he had been physically similar to Slender Man, tall, hairless, dressed in black and with a featureless space where his mouth should have been.

Sean was right, had he seen the Slender Man, the emotional and psychological impact would have been far more damaging to him than that of the Martin girl. Of course, the psychological state of one who sees him quickly becomes a moot point if Slender Man chooses to pursue what he has seen.

...

"A _what?_ " Sean asked cautiously.

"A Puppy Pile. We all snuggle together and sleep. It's very comforting and helps with pack bonding." Scott explained.

Sean's right eyebrow flew up, "You want me to _sleep_ with you? _All_ of you?"

"It's _not_ sexual. We're not naked or anything. It's a Werewolf thing, a family thing. Like hugging."

"Uh. I'm a Wendigo, and my bed is perfectly comfortable..."

"It's not necessarily all of us, just people holding each other. Like maybe just you and Liam."

"Yeah, that would look _really_ good. Mrs. McCall comes into my room to find me in bed with a 15 year old boy wrapped around me. I'd be _really_ popular in _prison_ after that."

Stiles laughed, "Dude, it's _not_ sexual. It's just being close to each other, helping each other. Face it, we're all screwed up, we need all the comfort and support we can get."

"I can't argue with that, at least. We are one crazy pack."

"After what just happened with Tall, White and Faceless, we need to feel more secure."

"What about the girls?"

"They pile in too. Lovers cuddle each other, the rest is basically random."

Sean had to admit, it made a certain kind of sense, as uncomfortable as the thought of sleeping with five or six people made him. So it wasn't sexual. He wasn't Brett's type, and Liam, Scott and presumably Derek were straight. He didn't know if he could keep from killing Stiles if they were that close, but he would be with Malia and Scott would be with Lydia, who really needed comfort. The idea of holding Liam wasn't that bad, if you took away the fact that he was only 15. Sean hugged and comforted him when he could while they were awake, just like Derek held and comforted Sean when he needed it. He remembered how David and he would share a bed on stormy nights or when one had a nightmare, it really did help, feeling someone there, knowing that you weren't alone... Logistics could be a pain in the butt, though. Who goes where and why?

He sighed loudly, "If I say no, you'll just pull me in anyways..."

He ended up with his arms firmly around Liam, who was curled up against him, and Derek spooning against his bare back, arms wrapped around his chest. Willow, jealous kitty that she was, had cuddled on top of them, to show the wolves that cats still ruled, no matter what they thought, and that Sean was _her_ pet, not their's.

It really was relaxing though.

He'd have to do this again.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Genius!Brett. I bet that one doesn't come up often.

How does Brett know about The Nogitsune's history? The Pack warns all it's new members/friends about him.


	23. Chapter 23

Survival

Chapter 23

Investigation

...

"Sam! Sam, can you hear me?!" The young man known as Tom was shouting loudly into the dark forest, "Sa-" His voice cut off, followed by static and grainy video in which a very tall, black-clad figure could be seen just on the outer edge of the flashlight's range. "Oh F-" There was a sharp snapping sound, and the camera fell to the ground, perfectly filming Tom's motionless forearm until the battery died.

"Crap." Was all Sheriff Stilinski could say, "It didn't even move, did it?"

"If it did, it was too fast for the camera." Jordan Parrish replied.

"Then either there's more than one of them, he can be in two places at once, or someone else killed the poor sap."

"That was Sean's theory, the 'other killer', I mean. Slender Man might not be the actual murderer, but a harbinger, a Messenger of Death. It could be working through a pawn or proxy, or it might just like to watch as people are murdered. It might even be trying to warn them away. It may be unable to communicate, and trying to scare them off before the real killer catches them."

"Or, he might just be a sadistic bastard who gets his rocks off watching people die."

This was the last of the tapes. Each of them began with excited college kids talking about the Werewolves of Beacon Hills, and all but one ended with a loud snapping/cracking sound that signaled the end of the individuals' life. The last one merely showed a girl dropping the camera and running into the darkness. It was like watching _The Blair Witch Project_ or _Lost Tapes_ , unsuspecting people terrorized by mostly unseen forces until they were killed, one after another, deliberately and without any apparent emotion or motive.

"This can't go on. I've seen too many corpses, too many and too young, for one lifetime since becoming Sheriff," He rubbed his eyes, this had been a long and excruciating experience, and he was sure he'd being seeing those kid's scared faces tonight when he closed his eyes. "If I advise people to stay out of the woods, every kid in the state is going to head for the forest. What the Hell am I supposed to do about _this_?"

"None of us could find anything to help fight it, not even Alan Deaton. He's been contacted paranormal experts, and they have little to no ideas either." Jordan Parrish was also deeply unnerved by the seemingly casual stalking, terrorizing and killing of four innocent college kids he'd witnessed through these tapes.

"Little is better than none. Did he specify?"

"A few said there might be _Binding_ or _Warding_ spells or rituals to keep evil away. There was a suggestion of carrying or wearing 'mystical' or holy talismans and the like to ward it off. I know it sounds like stuff from the Middle Ages, but we have nothing else to go on."

"I'm beginning to agree with Stiles, God help me. Stay inside and pray it doesn't find you. But I wasn't elected Sheriff to sit here on my ass while some... _Thing_ is out there murdering people. I want to lead a party of deputies into the forest. Volunteers, I won't force anyone to go into that.."

"I'll volunteer, if it will help."

"Thanks, Jordan. I'll give Stiles a call later and ask him to look into the triangle and any possible connection with The Slender Man, if he hasn't already."

...

Sean woke to a clicking sound.

"That's just so adorable..."

He looked over to see Lydia smiling with her cell phone in her hand.

"Don't you dare..." He growled softly, so as not to wake the others.

"Too late." She giggled, "I couldn't help it, Liam is so cute all curled up against you like that. And you're not so bad yourself."

Sean tried to extricate himself from the tangle of limbs that his friends referred to as a 'Puppy Pile'. "I see _you're_ feeling better," He said softly as Liam snuggled even deeper against him. He was well and truly stuck between Liam and Derek. "That's good. You better get Liam's permission if you want to post that."

"It's just a personal photo, I'm not going to post it. And I do feel better, I don't feel that dread anymore. I don't know why. Maybe it was just the area itself affecting us. Are you still anxious?"

"No. Maybe there's something to this bonding thing..." He looked down at the top of Liam's head, the boy was nuzzled against him like a kitten, "We all need a little security in our lives." He looked around, "Could you do me a favor and make sure Willow has water in her bowl, it's in the kitchen."

"Sure. You want me to feed her, too?"

"I would, but the can opener would wake everyone."

"I think they have an old fashioned manual one laying around, if I can find it, I'll use that. Where do you keep the cat food?"

"Bottom cabinet closest to the fridge. Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

Sean lay back and wrapped his arms back around Liam. Both of the wolves were very warm, apparently Werewolves had higher body temperature than humans, lucky dogs (pun intended). At least, lucky in the winter, probably Hell in the summer.

No wonder Liam stripped naked for his little night about town.

The warmth felt good. The scent of calm, sleeping wolves was also somehow soothing. The gentle, even breathing.

He yawned and his eyelids began to get heavy.

Soon he was asleep again.

...

"Who's there?"

Gerard Argent sensed a presence in his room, nearly seventy years as a hunter had made his senses as keen as those of his prey. Unfortunately for him, his body was not up to the task. He hacked until he coughed up a bit of black bile, the vile substance that now made his life a living Hell. In the dim morning light he could see a figure. Tall, dressed in a black suit and tie, and white, very white. But his face was indistinct.

"Martin! William! Intruder!" He shouted out to his guards, the two men rushed into the room, flipping on the switch and bathing the creature in light.

It was not a man. Men had faces. Men did not have squirming, spider-like arms growing from their backs.

"Why are you just standing there, shoot him!"

The two men looked about, there was no one.

"Mr. Argent, sir, where is this intruder?"

Gerard felt cold, "Can't you see him? He's right by the window! He's at least seven feet tall!"

The creature tilted it's featureless head oddly.

"Just shoot in that direction!"

The men opened fire. The window was shattered, wood and dust erupted from the wall, and the creature didn't even turn to look at them.

"Is he down?" William asked.

Gerard didn't answer, he just stared in horror as the creature loomed over him, it's blank face inches from his own.

He could feel something in his mind, a _wrongness_ , an unnatural presence, poking, prodding, searching.

It stood up to it's full height, and vanished.

More guards poured in.

"It's gone now." Gerard said weakly, "Whatever it wanted, I think it got it."

...

Dr. Melissa McCall walked up to her front door. It had been a long night, the doctor who normally covered that shift had been too ill to come in to work, and she'd had to fill in until they could find a replacement.

Scott had told her that pretty much the entire pack had stayed over due to some investigation they working on. He'd sounded nervous, but refused to talk about it and she hadn't had time to press the issue. As she pulled out her keys and walked up to the door she saw a sheet of paper lying on the doormat. Picking it up, she looked at it in exhausted curiosity.

It was only two words, but it somehow sent chills up her spine.

 _He's waiting._

...

The sheriff listened to the report intently. He didn't give a damn if Slender Man ripped Gerard Argent's twisted soul from his body and slowly ate it, but it was a lead. And they needed any information they could get.

John Stilinski called one of his deputies to check on the situation and get statements, he didn't trust himself not to kill the bastard who had kidnapped and brutally beaten Stiles to get information on The McCall Pack. Besides, Gerard had employees and servants, he could live with leaving the old man to rot, but not people who merely had the misfortune of working for that sadistic monster.

As for himself, he, Parrish and three other officers were going to search the area near where the victims' campsite had been set up. Try to match locations with video footage to establish the locations of death for each of the unfortunate kids.

Stiles had practically begged him to stay out of the forest, but he was elected to protect the people of Beacon Hills, not hide behind his desk. He was frightened, yes, any sane person would be. He was especially concerned about what would happen to Stiles if he were injured or killed. But this thing was as much a threat to Stiles as to everyone else.

It had to be stopped.

Just in case, he'd had all the officer's bullet's coated with Mountain Ash.

His cell phone went off.

It was Stiles.

"Stiles, what is it?"

"Mrs. McCall just found something on her front porch. A piece of paper with two words - ' _He's Waiting'."_

Sheriff John Stilinski's heart dropped in his chest.

"I'll be right over."

...

To be continued...


	24. Chapter 24

Survival

Chapter 24

Into The Woods

...

Sheriff Stilinski and Officer Parrish arrived at the McCall home to find the entire pack gathered and anxious.

John hated this, Once again his son was entangled in some monster's games. How much did Stiles have to suffer? Losing his mother, his best friend becoming a Werewolf, getting kidnapped by the Argents, fighting all sorts of freaks and monsters and getting possessed by that damned Nogitsune just when he seemed to be doing better Was this some kind of Divine Judgement that the boy should never have a moment of peace? He sighed and put on his 'professional' face as Stiles handed him the letter.

It was just a simply piece of paper with the words ' _He Waits_ ' written in a large, childish style.

"Some of the myths say that notes are often left during a Slender Man event. Usually directions and warnings, ranging from eight to ten notes, all short, all on a single piece of paper." Stiles noted. His voice was strong, but inside his father knew he was probably a wreck.

"Great, it's an ' _event_ ' now." He said, with a hint of sarcasm, "No one saw anything or anyone?"

"No. And we couldn't pick up any unusual scents near the front door or on the note." Scott replied. He was holding the Martin girl, the one who'd seen the thing. The one who legend said would likely be a target now. "Of course, he might not even leave a scent."

He decided to fill them in on the other 'Slender Man event' that morning, "Slender Man appeared in Gerard Argent's bedroom this morning. The report says none of his guards could see it, just Gerard. He didn't really want to talk about to deputy Greene, but apparently he's terrified. So at least one good thing has come of this, pity it didn't take him." He left out the part where Gerard had half the South wall of his room shot to pieces trying to kill it, only for it to ignore the both the guards and the guns completely.

"Maybe they used to know each other, went out murdering innocent people and sat around burning crosses and drinking beer or something." Stiles joked, "Maybe he's here to present him with an award from _The International Society of Evil, Twisted Pieces of S***_."

"Language, Stiles, especially in Mrs. McCall's presence." John said halfheartedly, He'd called Gerard Argent much worse things himself. "Anyway, apparently he's not the stick man's type, it just looked him over and left."

"His victims are usually younger." Stiles supplied, "Children or teenagers, maybe a twenty-something or two if they get in his way."

 _God, I don't know how many more dead kids and grieving parents I can handle before I start drinking again..._

"I was thinking maybe one of the neighbors saw someone, though it's unlikely," Melissa McCall looked totally exhausted, she probably was, the hospital was seriously over-staffed, and if she'd just come home a few hours ago, she'd been up at least 24 hours, "The kids wanted to go around and ask them, but I thought you might need statements or have questions for them."

"That's a good idea, Ma'am. If you guys do go out go out in groups of at least two. I don't know if it will help, but I hope so." He turned back to Melissa, "Mrs. McCall, you're probably exhausted, why don't you go get some sleep and we'll take care of things."

"Thank you, John. That's probably a good idea, I'm dead on my feet," She turned to The Pack, "Nobody do anything crazy, okay?"

Everyone indicated their agreement, after she had gone upstairs John turned to Lydia and Scott. "You probably need someone to stay with Lydia, since she's obviously upset. Have you talked to your parents, Lydia? I mean, since the note?"

"I just told them I would be hanging out here." Lydia tried to put on a brave face, "So, what are the Argents going to do?"

"Exactly what we planned to do. Go out and look for this thing."

"DAD!" Stiles grabbed his father by the front of his shirt, "No! You can't go out there! It doesn't stay in one place for long, it may already be gone!"

"I'm sorry, Stiles." John pulled himself free, "I have to do this. It's my job to protect this town. The people of Beacon Hills elected me Sheriff, and I have thousands of lives to worry about. People who trust me to protect them." He hugged Stiles and gently kissed the top of his head, "Besides, like you said, what would he want with an old man like me?"

Stiles looked like he was about to burst into tears, but he simply nodded.

"Come back. Just, come back, okay. I know this town needs you, but I need you too."

"I know. And I fully intend to come back to you, even if I have to tear that skinny bastard apart with my bare hands."

Stiles gave a small smile, but a stray tear fell down his cheek.

"We'll be with Chris Argent and some of his hunters. We have bullets coated in Mountain Ash, and they probably have weapons I've never even heard of. Everything should turn out just fine."

...

 _I hadn't anticipated this,_ The Scientist thought ruefully, _Why Gerard Argent of all people? Now the entire Argent clan and their hunters are working with that incompetent Sheriff Stilinski. What if they find my equipment? It's well hidden, and He wouldn't bother with it, but they would, certainly._

This was a catastrophe. He'd remotely retrieved all of the data from his observation devices, and it was highly unlikely anyone could trace it back to him, but such devices were expensive and difficult to replace. And without them, any future data would be lost. Events would occur unobserved. It could throw the whole experiment off track before it even got off the ground.

The data gathered so far, the energy wavelengths, the power, nature and duration of the signals his body emitted when he manifested were invaluable, but they were not nearly enough.

He'd known that The Slender Man would come to Beacon Hills eventually, unable to resist the pull of the Nemeton, even now it exuded power. So he'd waited. And waited. Until finally he arrived, and then the local hunters enter the equation. He had been expecting those stupid children to try to investigate, but both the Banshee and the Wendigo were too cautious, too sensitive to his presence. Self preservation instincts kicked in. Sean Walcott had never been part of the original plan, but even without him the Martin girl would have sensed the threat.

He calmed himself. The police and hunters, some of them were doubtless young. He might show interest in Jordan Parrish, as he was no more human than Sean or Lydia, and he was a very young officer.

Still, he'd rather The Pack investigated. They did not use weapons, save Miss. Yukimura, who wielded a katana. A deadly weapon in her well-trained hands, but useless at a distance. Even with their supernatural powers, they were less dangerous to the experiment.

He glanced back at the skull and his eyes widened in alarm.

The Mute's skull now rested upon a single sheet of paper.

Slowly The Scientist got up and walked over to the shelf, lifting up the skull and sliding the paper out.

 _He knows who you are, what you want. His eyeless gaze is upon you always. And He will punish you._

"We are his voices, old man."

He spun around, dropping the paper on the floor.

A teenage boy with long brown hair and a disturbing grin on his face stood by his office door. He tilted his head oddly.

 _A Proxy._ The Scientist cursed, and the boy laughed.

"We are his eyes, his ears, his mouth." He continued, "You will see him, but on _his_ terms."

He wagged his finger as one might at a naughty child.

The Scientist pulled out his gun.

The boy, still grinning, vanished.

...

Sean was unsure what he, or anyone else, could do to be useful in this situation. The Slender Man had survived being shot multiple times by Gerard Argent's guards, probably experienced hunters in their own right, so what could they do? And he certainly did not want to confront the creature. "Guys, I was just thinking. Lydia and I, we didn't feel anything last night. The emanations that the creature in the forest gave off were so powerful I have no doubt they would have woken us up. Maybe it was a Proxy?"

Stiles frowned, "It could have been, but why wouldn't we have picked up their scent?"

"Some hunters and suppliers make chemicals that completely remove a person's scent for a period of time." Derek explained, "They could be using something like that."

"Why does he even need Proxies and servants if he can just beam himself wherever he wants?" Liam asked.

"It's just part of the myth. No one knows why or how he picks a Proxy, usually it's a victim he chooses not to do whatever he does to the other victims to. Maybe they have something he likes or admires, or something in their DNA makes them special. He could just choose at random. He uses them to lure out prey, to threaten those who would expose him, or to recruit others. That's the story, anyway."

"Of course, it could just be some prankster put a scary note on the doormat as a joke."

Sean picked up Willow and began stroking her fur, "I hope so. I don't want anything to do with what I felt back there at the forest." He also reminded the Wendigo youth of The Mute, an image he was not keen on dredging up again.

Sean went into the living room and sat on the floor, stroking Willow and tuning the world out. He couldn't understand why all of this was happening. He'd lost his entire family, nearly been murdered several times, witnessed a murder, committed a murder and now his new family, his pack, was in danger. Just a few months ago his biggest concern was David pulling pranks on him. Now every day was a struggle just to survive.

 _I haven't been abandoned,_ He thought, Not completely. _McCall and the others, they let me join their pack. I've never heard of a Wendigo being accepted into another species' clan._ Mrs. McCall, Derek, Danny and so many other people he didn't even know before the murders were treating him like family, or at least like a life-long friend. He'd always been warned that no one would ever accept a Wendigo, no one would show them any mercy, any compassion. The best they could hope for was non-violent disgust and hate. But these people knew what he was, had seen him at his worst, Mrs. McCall had even seen him feeding off of that policeman he'd killed. He'd attacked her, attacked Liam and forced Scott to give him the bite. But they not only accepted him, they trusted him.

And now-

"Sean, are you okay?" Liam sat beside him, cross-legged on the floor, "You looked a little spaced out."

"I was just thinking about my life. I still can't believe that The Pack, and especially you, have forgiven me. Accepted me. How can you forgive me for ruining your life, Liam?"

Liam laughed, "You didn't ruin my life, though you almost caused me to ruin my underwear." Sean couldn't help but laugh, "I know now. I know what it's like, to have no control over your body. I ran through town bare-ass naked under the control of The Wolf." He smiled, but blushed at the same time, "I guess I gave you guys a good show." His smiled faded, "But you, you don't have a Wolf, you have a Wendigo, and that must be a thousand times worse. Not as bad as what happened to Stiles, but more than I can imagine. The way you were then and the way you've been ever since you showed up here, it's like two different people. Sure, you punched Stiles, nice right hook for a guy who isn't a fighter, and broke Garrett's arm, but you did those things to protect me. You and I have a lot in common, we tend to blow up when something bad happens, but the rest of the time, you're the most mellow guy in The Pack. I don't have any reason to hate you any more than I have to hate Scott and Stiles for the whole 'breaking my ankle, turning me into a Werewolf, kidnapping me twice, keeping me in S&M bondage, hitting me in the head with something really hard from behind and chaining me to an old house' thing."

"It was a boathouse." Lydia clarified.

He shot Kira a look, "Of course, the hitting me part was a certain _lying fox_ who used my emotions against me."

"I didn't use your emotions against you, Liam," Kira said sweetly, "I used your _hormones_ against you. I don't play with people's emotions, well, _not often._ "

Liam looked Sean in the eyes, "Sean, what I'm about to say is very important to your survival. Remember, _Never trust a fox_."

Sean grinned, "The scorpion and the frog, eh?"

"In some legends it's a scorpion and a fox." Kira added. "The scorpion asks the fox to take him across the river. The fox says that the scorpion will sting him if he does, and the scorpion swears that he will not. So the _kindly_ fox let's the scorpion climb on his head and starts swimming across the river. Halfway from the shore, the scorpion stings the fox. The fox, dying, asks why the scorpion would do such a thing, they were too far from shore for the scorpion to survive, he had killed them both. The scorpion replies, "I'm sorry, it was in my nature."

Liam sneered, "More likely the fox shook the scorpion off and _she_ swam off while he drowned, laughing all the way. _That's_ the nature of a fox."

"I know of several lakes and rivers near here, little scorpion. Would you like to go for a swim?"

"No. But you go right ahead, try the shark tank at the aquarium. Be sure to put in extra chum first." He replied innocently.

Sean looked at Willow, "What do you think? You think we're all inferior idiots born to serve you, don't you?"

"Meow"

"I know." He said gently, "She saved my life, you know. I was outside looking for Willow when _he_ came in... And when I saw her bloody paw-prints in my room and the blood on her fur I knew something bad was happening. If I hadn't seen her, if I'd been in bed, he'd have caught me off guard and I'd be dead too." He didn't mention hearing his mother's scream right after he found Willow, it was too painful. "So my little Princess-"

"Meow!"

"Sorry, my little _Queen_ is more than just a cat to me. She's a _hero_." He looked around the room at the assembled pack, "You should all go out and adopt kittens. Many kittens." Sean said in a monotone, "Cats are superior to us in every way. They are our rightful masters. If you serve them well, they are kind and merciful masters."

Everyone laughed.

It helped lighten the tension a little, and everybody needed a good laugh.

...

Chris Argent looked over the ill-fated campground. The tents and personal affects had been taken, of course, but there were still obvious signs of a recent camp. A small fire pit in the middle of the clearing, a few twigs and branches stacked as firewood, bits of cloth and many, many footprints.

He cursed that. He understood the need to return the effects to the families, he'd lost his own daughter, Allison, a few months ago, and he really felt for the kids and their parents, but the retrieval teams had inadvertently damaged any footprints as they went about their work. He looked over at Sheriff Stilinski, he knew the man hated his father and he didn't blame him, after all of the terrible things he'd done, the kids he'd hurt, the monster he'd made his sister into and tried to make of his daughter...

But that wasn't the issue right now. They weren't here for Gerard Argent's sake, they were here to see if this faceless coward had left any evidence, besides corpses.

He heard a bird call, a barn owl. That meant on of the men had found something. He replied with a whippoorwill, then motioned to the Sheriff. They quietly followed the call to one of his hunters, Maria, who was crouching beside a set of footprints.

Sneakers.

"Probably one of the victims." The Sheriff whispered.

"No, this is fresh, less than a day old." Chris replied.

 _Oh, God._ John thought, _Some dumb kid has wandered out here with that thing on the loose._

"It's a boy's shoe, size 7. Light depression, so he wasn't very heavy."

"Well, let's follow him."

The trio walked on, following the tracks at least a mile into the forest.

"What was this kid doing? Looking for the thing?"

"It's possible. You know kids."

Suddenly they stopped.

A figure was standing there, a few yards away, the sun behind them.

The figure was of average height, otherwise it was difficult to tell due to the angle of the light and the fact the individual was wearing a gray hoodie. Blue jeans and black sneakers completed the ensemble.

"Kid," Sheriff Stilinski moved forward carefully, "It's not safe to be out here. Why don't you come with us? You're not in trouble or anything..."

The figure turned slightly, pointed toward a thick, thorny bush and spoke in an androgynous voice. "You don't understand. Look underneath."

Then the figure vanished into thin air.

After a few moments to gather their wits, Chris was the first to speak.

"I remember from what little information we have on this creature that it allegedly keeps human Proxies, whether they're servants, slaves or worshipers it doesn't say. One is described as a teenager in a gray hoodie. No one knows if the person is a boy or a girl." Chris Argent said.

"I'd guess slave, poor kid. We have to stop this thing." Stilinski said.

"We can't help that kid, whoever it was. The Slender Man would find them no matter where we hid them, and I doubt they'd come willingly. Maybe if the thing were contained..." Chris Argent's voice was tinged with anger and helplessness. "At least with the other supernaturals you had something, some way to fight them, to stop them. Now it's like fighting a hurricane. It can't be stopped or contained, and God help anyone that gets in it's way."

There was a moment of silence.

"So The Slender Man wanted us to find this." John said wearily and picked up his radio, "Someone get back to headquarters and get up as many metal detectors as you can find. And gloves, thick gloves."

...

After some painful and difficult brush removal, the group found a camouflaged piece of equipment. None of them recognized it, it was little more than a box with a few small buttons and a catch.

"That's no trail camera."

"Why would Slender Man want us to find this?"

"Maybe he doesn't like littering."

By the end of the day they had collected fifteen pieces of sophisticated scientific equipment hidden in almost inaccessible places. Some where clearly recording devices of some kind, some transmitters, other like nothing they'd seen.

"You don't think this could be government tech, do you?"

"We'll know soon enough, if the Feds come to claim it."

...

"The Slender Man didn't leave that surveillance equipment, I'm sure of that," Stiles stated, "Someone else is involved, someone with a lot of money and a taste for high tech toys. From what I can tell it's designed to measure radio frequencies, energy fluctuations, and radiation. Whoever set this up is brilliant, they're studying him, learning from him. This time it looks like someone is stalking The Slender Man."

"Why?"

"Do you realize what kind of scientific secrets he's hiding in that skinny body? He can teleport, become invisible, alter his size and shape, cloud people's minds, defy the laws of physics and possibly travel in the higher dimensions. If someone could capture and harness that kind of power, someone with enough ambition and intelligence, they could do far worse than anything Slender Man is capable of. A human being, with human greed, human hatred, human ambition and every other negative quality with the powers of Slender Man? He could make himself a god, at least compared to us mortals. The Slender Man is dangerous, but he doesn't seem to care about power, he's content with a few victims and causing fear, but an evil human with his powers, or worse, the government..." Stiles shook his head. "If that were to happen, it could make Nogitsune look like a petty criminal."

"That's comforting. If we're dealing with some Black Ops thing, we're in deeper guano than we thought." Sean nuzzled Willow, which caused her to purr contentedly. She'd trained her human/Wendigo well. He made an excellent pet.

"Dude, I bet The Men in Black have a whole section devoted just to me." Stiles said, "I've been onto them for years, and they haven't moved openly against me yet. Besides, I doubt this is a govt job, they'd have soldiers and guys in space suits trucked in by now and the whole area posted and guarded."

"So some sort of private company, maybe even an individual, placed this stuff in the forest?"

"And not long ago, either. They're fairly clean with no signs of wear, they may have placed them shortly after the police left on the first day. Or night, whatever it was." He sighed, "Remember the good old days, Scott, when all we had to worry about was Jackson being a dick? No Peter, no Gerard, no Alpha Pack, no evil Druids, no demons, no Benefactor, no psychotic extradimensional stick men, just me, you and Adderall. Ah those were our halcyon days. Good times, man, good times."

...

To be continued...

Notes

Adderall is the medication Stiles takes for his ADHD.


	25. Chapter 25

Survival

Chapter 25

Face to No-Face

...

Seven young people stood in a triangle around a towering eighth, decidedly non-human figure. The Slender Man's limbs moved slowly, rhythmically as he silently 'spoke' with his Proxies, tilting his head toward each in turn. As he directed his eyeless gaze upon one, that individual would nod in agreement, or, perhaps, submission, and head off in another direction, mission clearly understood.

Soon The Slender Man stood alone in the peaceful forest, surveying the area serenely with his featureless face.

...

Beacon Hills High,

In third period English literature, Sean Walcott felt a sudden urge to stand up.

The teacher looked up, "Mr. Walcott, is something wrong?"

"I don't know." He blinked and shook his head.

 _He waits._

He turned to Stiles Stilinski, who was sitting nearby.

"He's here. At the school. He's trying to get me to come to him."

Stiles' eyes widened.

"Whom may I ask is _'He'?_ " The teacher inquired. It was strange of Sean Walcott, a well-behaved, highly intelligent student, to behave in such a manner, as if the rest of the class wasn't even there, and the look on Stilinski's face...

"We have to go to the bathroom!" Stiles yelled loudly and grabbed Sean by the hand, pulling him into the hallway and nearly knocking over Greenberg.

"Wait, you need a hall pass!" The teacher called in vain.

...

Lydia Martin simply walked out Chemistry class as Scott watched in shock.

"Lydia?" He ran out into the hall after her, only to see Stiles and Sean.

"Where is he, Sean?" Stiles asked.

"The boiler room. It's the 21st century and this school has a boiler room..." Sean spoke with an odd cadence, compulsion, confusion and fear.

"Stiles, what's going on?"

" _He waits_." Lydia replied.

"Oh crap, this is bad," Stiles began, "You don't want to go to him, either of you. You're afraid of him, remember? _No face?_ Like The Mute. Well, The Mute had eyes and a nose but still..."

Lydia picked up her pace as Sean slowed down, holding his head.

"That's right, you do not want to see him. You said so yourself. You-"

Sean looked up, his eyes silver, his teeth large and sharp in multiple rows.

"He wants me to come to him. I wonder if he knows there are two of me?" He growled. Sean rushed forward and held Lydia in place. "We're _not_ going to him, Lydia."

"Let me go, or I'll scream. I'll tell them you attacked me."

"You really have no choice, either go to Him, or He will come to you."

Everyone turned to see a figure in a gray hoodie. In the school's bright lights it was clear that it was a girl.

Scott growled, "If you and your faceless freak think we're going to let you take our Pack-"

The girl laughed, "Why would He want your pack?" She looked at Sean, "How were you able to fight off His call? Was it your Wendigo nature, or your fear?"

"Both, and Stiles helped." He snarled, "And I have a problem with murderers without mouths."

"He is not a murderer. He is beyond your comprehension. Even we do not truly understand His wisdom."

Stiles fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a $20.00 bill, offering it to the Proxy. "Tell him to go to town with this."

"He has no need for money, He wants for nothing."

"Then why the Hell is he here, killing people?"

"I am but a humble servant, I understand what He needs me to understand, and I do not ask questions. now come to the boiler room, or He will come here and all of your schoolmates will see Him and know true terror."

Sean hissed and released Lydia as Stiles and Scott looked at each other.

"Okay."

...

The strange girl lead the way, followed closely by Lydia and Scott, and more reluctantly by Sean and Stiles. She refused to answer any questions about who she was or how she came to be a Proxy.

It went against every fiber of Sean's rational being to follow that girl. His life experiences, his sense of self-preservation, his intellect, his upbringing to run from danger, to avoid conflict at all costs. His common sense. But he was pack, and that meant something. He was _family_. He belonged with these people, even if they were marching into the belly of Hell to confront a faceless nightmare given form. He couldn't run away, he couldn't leave them to face this alone. Wendigo might not be brave people, but they were _loyal_ people. The Pack had saved his life, cared for him, helped him through the fear and grief, when, by all rights, they could have killed him on spot, or left him, injured and helpless, for The Mute. He thought of David, dying to defend their parents.

He couldn't run out on his family.

Not again.

 _Never_ again.

"What does he want from us?" Scott asked.

"I do not question him, neither should you."

"I'd rather like to know if he's waiting down there to drag us off to some kind of extradimensional Hell." Stiles snarked.

The girl ignored him as they reached he locked door to the boiler room, which was no longer locked. They walked down the darkened stairs into the old, dirty, dark room, long since rendered obsolete by technological progress, yet still here, a relic of the past.

"He is amused that you are in your shifted forms, Sean, Scott." She said casually, "Do you really believe that you could fight him with brute strength?"

"No, but the illusion of strength makes me more comfortable." Sean replied.

There was the sound of footsteps in the darkness and two figures appeared, one a teenage boy with long hair and a truly creepy smile, the other an 8' tall nightmare come to life. The Slender Man's head was perfectly smooth, like a marble, hairless and featureless. He was clothed in darkness, his long limbs hanging loose at his sides. Several black, shadowy appendages, either tentacled or spider-like limbs, it was impossible to tell, writhed around him.

It seemed to study them, 'face' turning at angles indicating observation.

Sean wanted nothing more than to flee the room and run like a madman, but he knew it would be pointless. One cannot hide from such a creature. He'd never seen anything so... _Inhuman_ in his life. The Mute was the stuff of nightmares, his image burned forever into Sean's mind, but The Slender Man was just unnatural, as Deaton had said, a 'Thing That Should Not Be.' A creature that didn't fit into reality as he knew it, a thing that did not belong to this universe. Terrifying and mystifying at the same time, a dark puzzle that could not be solved by the mortal mind.

The girl walked over to join the boy, standing on the opposite side of the creature's body.

"Okay," Stiles tried to sound brave as he observed Sean shakily pulling out his Ativan and swallowing two dry, "Who are you, what the Hell do you want, and does it involve us dying, because, even though my life sucks, I don't want to die, and neither do any of the others."

"We're not here to harm you." The smiling boy said.

"Oh, you want to _convert_ us?" Stiles said, "Church of The Slender Man? Slenderology? Do you have a Slender Bible? Do you have any holidays, because I like-"

"He wanted to see you."

"Well he's seen us, can we go now before we all end up in Eichen House?"

"I am His _Voice_. You are correct, Stiles Stilinski, someone does seek to use The Slender Man's power for their own gain. A scientist has been tracking The Events around him, seeking to capture Him..." The boy broke out laughing, a bizarre sound that echoed through the dark room, "He is in no danger. No human can stop Him, no matter how clever."

"Why are you killing people?" Scott growled, "You murdered those kids-"

"That was not us. That was not Him. The last one, the girl, died of fear when she saw Him, the others were murdered by a human."

Stiles was skeptical, and looked The Slender Man right in his non-face, "And you expect us to believe this why, exactly? You're not exactly considered a 'friendly' monster like Bigfoot or Nessie, you're more like El Chupacabra or your average Congressman."

"You have courage." Hoodie noted.

"What human committed the murders?" Sean growled.

"It _was_ Greenberg! I knew it!"

"Shut up, Stiles. It wasn't Greenberg."

"The Scientist has agents, even as He has us. One of them is quite the sociopath. He enjoys killing." Voice observed.

"Names would be nice."

"He will deal with this personally." Hoodie stated flatly.

"These people deserve a trial, at least!" Scott objected.

"Why, when He has seen them commit these crimes in His presence?" Voice asked. The question was genuine, the answer was obvious. He had seen the crimes, the treachery, what need was there for further complications?

"Why didn't He try to stop them, then? Is He afraid? Or does He just not care?"

"Not even we know." Voice admitted.

"What's with the goofy smile? You look like The Joker."

The Voice smiled even wider, "I'm quite the sociopath as well, at least, that's what my psychologist used to say. Something about _'Dissonant Serenity'_."

"That's just great. It's _Johnny The Homicidal Maniac_ and _Happy Noodle Boy_!" Stiles moaned.

"Do you enjoy working for him? Or are you slaves?" Scott asked.

"That is in The Eye of The Beholder. We simply serve."

"I'm more concerned about your minds and safety than appearances."

Voice eyed him curiously, thought the grin never left his face, "You are an unusual creature Scott McCall, filled with compassion. We are in no danger, do not fear for us."

The Slender Man examined them all carefully, as if shopping for a new suit.

"He has seen you now. His business here is over."

"What? He just wanted to _look_ at us?"

"Yes."

"GET AWAY FROM THOSE KIDS!"

Everyone, even The Slender Man, turned to see the School Resource Officer standing beside a mass of pipes. She had noticed that the door to the boiler room was open and heard voices.

This was not she expected to see.

Sheriff Stilinski had briefed all of the officers on The Slender Man, and she knew what she was looking at, as far as any of them could know.

A pity SROs aren't allowed to carry any weapons.

Then again, perhaps it was a good thing, as both Scott and Sean were in their transformed states.

"Scott McCall? Sean Walcott?"

"Oh crap." Stiles face-palmed.

She looked up at the creature, who merely stared back, despite lacking eyes. Or any other facial features, for that matter.

Without a sound The Slender Man and his two Proxies were gone. She turned back to see Scott McCall and Sean Walcott looking perfectly normal.

"She must have seen one of his illusions," Stiles said loudly, "Who knows what he made this look like..."

"Y-You kids get out of here. Go the the principle's office and wait for Sheriff Stilinski." She pulled out her cell phone, "I'll be right behind you." She didn't want to stay down here either.

...

Sean was getting pretty drowsy from the Ativan so they took him to the nurse's office and let him rest while the others spoke to the police.

"And it affected my mind, made me see things that weren't there... Scott McCall and Sean Walcott looked... Well, _inhuman_. Scott looked like a Werewolf and Sean looked almost like a shark, with shark's teeth and silver eyes. I looked at The Slender Man, then back at Scott and Sean, and they looked perfectly normal."

"No one is perfectly normal." Stiles said under his breath.

"And it looked at me, it didn't have eyes, but it looked at me. Then it vanished, taking those two strange kids with it."

"Thanks. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. I'll take over for the rest of the day. If you don't think you can come back-"

"I can come back, I just don't think I'll ever be able to go into the boiler room again."

"That makes five of us." Stiles said, "Sean had to force himself to go in the first place, he was scared, but he wasn't going to let us face Slender Man alone."

"We'll have the place searched an padlocked." John assured them.

 _For all the good it will do_

...

After the officer had left, John Stilinski shook his head, "Maybe we should call in an exorcist."

"I don't think that would help." Lydia said quietly. "He's something... _Else_. He's not a demon but he's certainly not an Angel."

"He went to all that trouble just to _look_ at you?"

"And to tell us about The Scientist."

"Whose name we don't know, only that he's a man."

"If he's studying Slender Man, he's probably either a parapsychologist, an occultist, a physicist, a cryptozoologist or a biologist. If he wants to take Slender Man's powers for himself he must have knowledge of biology and theoretical physics, he was studying the energies radiating from his body, so he has some knowledge of radiobiology..."

"Maybe you should write it all down, because I lost you after 'he's probably a para-something..." The Sheriff rubbed his forehead.

"Sure, of course, science-speak, nobody understands me. Do they ever?"

"Did either of the kids gave their names?"

"No. But the boy called himself 'Voice'. He said he was the 'Voice of The Slender Man'."

"Like Mr. Sleep and Mr. Hand ..." Lydia observed. "Just a part of the whole."

"They may not know who they are anymore, or they may be too insane to care." The Sheriff mused sadly. He wondered if their lives with Slender Man were any better or worse than Stiles' with Nogitsune.

"They felt wrong, like Slender Man, but still human at the same time." Lydia recalled, "Of course, I was under his power and might have missed something, you'll have to talk to Sean when he wakes up."

"Did you notice anything different about him this time? Any of you?"

"Besides getting a good view of him, no."

"He had no heartbeat, but something was running through his veins, or whatever passes for veins in his body." Scott stated, "I couldn't understand the emotions he was giving off, if they were emotions. His body language said he was comfortable, confident and calculating."

"Of course, considering it's not human and possibly not even a native of this dimension, it could mean that he's got the hots for you, Scott... Or me, or Sean, or maybe the boiler, that'd be a love story for the ages... _Slender Man marries school boiler! Gives birth to steam pipes!_."

Even Lydia couldn't help chuckling at the picture.

...

Scott carried Sean to the jeep while Stiles called the rest of The Pack and Lydia went to their respective classes with notes from the principle excusing them for walking out and skipping. Sheriff Stilinski and a deputy searched the boiler room, but found nothing, not that they expected to.

Sean stirred in his sleep as Scott gently set him on the passenger seat and buckled him in.

Stiles came out and walked up to the jeep, "I'll run Sean home while you take Lydia in her car, she probably shouldn't be driving right now." 'Home' in this instance was the McCall house, as for all intents and purposes Sean lived there now. "I'll come back for the others when school lets out."

"Sounds like a plan to me. Here comes Lydia now." He smiled, "Don't let Malia see you driving Lydia around, she'll go Kali on you."

"Kali, Hindu goddess of Death and Rebirth." Sean murmured from the car, "Wife of Vishnu..."

"Yeah, you better put him to bed. Don't forget to tuck him in." Stiles shot him his patented mischievous grin, "But you better get there before me, there's no way I can lift _Hannibal_ here, muscle weighs more than fat, and he's solid muscle."

"You can follow me then." Scott replied.

Stiles shook his head, "I'm perfectly happy being human, but knowing that Liam could carry Sean into your house, up the stairs and into his bed while I can't even pick up Liam is pretty bad for my self-image. You Werewolves set an unrealistic standard of masculinity. You're the Barbies of the supernatural world."

"I guess that makes me Clawd Wolf..."

...

To be continued...

Notes

The girl in the hoodie is canon in some stories, I just call her 'Hoodie' The boy is OC, and he's called 'Voice'. He is _not_ Jeff The Killer from Creepypasta! He is not Mr. Scars, either. He's just a boy with a creepy grin and a strange strange sense of humor.

When I have to take Ativan, I take _one_ , taking _two_ would probably be dangerous, and I wouldn't recommend testing it.

Mr. Sleep and Mr. Hand were two characters in the fascinating and bizarre movie _Dark City_. They were two members of a race of parasitic aliens in dead (apparently naturally dead, not murdered) human bodies, who enforced the alien rule/control and social stability over the inhabitants of the city by switching and altering people's memories every few hours to keep them from realizing something was wrong. Mr. Sleep was in the body of a small (bald) child played both by a boy and his twin sister... Mr. Hand, Mr. Book, Mr. Wall, Mr. Sleep and Mr. Rain are among the named aliens.

In Florida police officers working with schools are called School Resource Officers, I have no idea what they are called in California.

Clawd Wolf is a Werewolf boy from the Mattel Barbie-based _Monster High_ series. There are several figures/dolls of him.


	26. Chapter 26

Survival

Chapter 26

Bugs

...

"Now that I've actually seen him, I'm kind of relieved. I mean, he's terrifying, but not knowing is worse than actually seeing him, because your mind supplies yo with all kinds of crazy images of your worst fears, and he just looks like a really tall, skinny bald guy in a suit with no face." Stiles leaned back in the chair, "He's not nearly as scary as Peter's Alpha form."

"He doesn't look anything like The Mute, not really," Sean said, "Now that I think about it, The Mute was worse. He had those eyes, those cold, heartless eyes that looked at me like I was nothing. Eyes that didn't care, the eyes of a true monster. He'd probably have killed his own mother if he thought he could get away with it. Slender Man is a blank, there's nothing. He's scary, but he has a harder time expressing whether or not he's evil or wants to kill you."

Okay, so _maybe_ he was acting a little braver than he felt, none of them except Lydia could read his mind, right?

 _Oh, yeah, Werewolves can smell fear! So much for being macho, Sean..._

If anyone noticed, they didn't bring it up. Probably because they were frightened too.

"The eyes are the windows to the soul," Stiles reflected, "Perhaps he has no soul."

"Whatever he is, he isn't very helpful. 'Scientist' it turns out, is a very vague term, you have forensic examiners, medical technicians, mechanics, chemists, several teachers, meteorologists, dietitians, veterinarians. The list is endless. And for all we know he could have been referring to Christian Scientists... And, yes, we checked that angle, turns out not a single member of the religion lives in Beacon Hills, though we do have one Scientologist, who is a woman. They referred to this Scientist as male." Sheriff Stilinski was tired of this crap. Why couldn't the stick-man just give them a name, a starting point?

"What about sociopaths? Can you track them?"

"It's hard. Medical records, including psychiatric records, are confidential, and we need evidence or strong suspicion on an individual to get a warrant, we can't issue a blanket warrant on all mentally ill men in Beacon Hills. Every man in town would be on it, myself included. But we can look at criminal records, see if there are known serial killers or hit men who kill by snapping the victim's neck. Jordan's running down that lead now."

"Hopefully we'll find him before anyone else gets killed."

...

Later,

The Pack was sitting around, trying to think of something they could do to help.

So far, they had nothing.

So Lydia decided to lessen the tension with an odd thought that occurred to her,

"Sean, have you ever worked as a lifeguard?" Lydia asked.

"Hn? No, I didn't get out much, I haven't been to a beach in years. Why?"

"For some reason I keep picturing you dressed as a lifeguard."

Sean smirked, "Oh really? Fantasizing about me?" He flexed his arms, displaying well-developed biceps.

"You were also a narcissistic idiot."

"Why thank you very much..." He mock pouted, "You still love me, don't you Willow?"

Willow rubbed up against his leg, purring as he picked her up.

"Are you hitting on my girlfriend, Sean?" Scott glared playfully at him.

"No. I happen to like living, thank you very much."

"Now that you mention it, I remember a lifeguard who looked like Sean..." Liam said, scratching his head, "Weird, huh?"

"I guess I have a doppelganger or something." Sean shrugged. "They say everybody has a twin somewhere..."

...

After the wolves had left, the cat came out to play.

Willow rubbed herself against the couch and noticed a slightly irritating sound, one she'd heard before in this part of the house. Well, she was tired of hearing it. Squeezing herself under the couch, she headed for the sound. It was coming from a small black bump on the side of one of the couch legs. Hissing, she batted at it, and it fell, sending out an odd ping.

"Willow, what are you doing under there?" Sean lifted the couch and saw Willow hissing at a small black bump that was making a barely audible buzzing sound. He picked up Willow in one arm and pushed the buzzing thing out with his foot. "What did you find?" He set the couch down, set Willow down, and picked up a small piece of plastic perforated with thousands of tiny holes.

Sean had never seen a 'bug' before, but he realized pretty quickly that this was some kind of listening device. Very quietly he walked upstairs to where Scott and Stiles were playing video games. He put his finger to his lips and handed the tiny device to Stiles, who took one look at it and turned pale and wide-eyed.

"Is that a...?"

Stiles clapped a hand over Scott's mouth.

"Willow was scouting out the living room. I left her on the couch, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, she's practically pack." Stiles played along, "Hey Scott, look out, it's a Covenant Elite!"

Stiles set the bug on top of his phone, set the volume to maximum, and started his playlist. He then motioned for the others to follow them as music blared through the room.

"Somebody's been spying on us!"

"Where did you find it?" Scott asked.

"Like I tried to say, Willow found it under the couch."

"Then we have to assume that no room in this house is secure. We have to get out of here, where we can talk." Stiles looked about wildly, "I knew it! Everybody thought I was paranoid but I knew I was right! _EAT THAT GREENBERG!_ " Stiles looked at Sean, "That offer of your place still good?"

...

When The Scientist returned to review his recordings he was given an unpleasant and noisy surprise. First the cat hissing and batting around the listening device, then Sean presumably picking it up, silence, Stiles talking about 'a Covenant Elite', presumably something to do with a video game and a loud period of unpleasant sounds that young people these days call 'music'. Then the receiver went dead.

He'd been outmatched by a house cat.

Far worse than the loss of intelligence gathering equipment was the fact that The Slender Man and his Proxies had set the wolves upon him, literally. But he knew that he would not be left to the idiotically merciful Scott McCall. Slender Man wanted him, _personally_.

Well, two could play at that game.

He had perfectly aligned the multi-wavelength energy emitters. The configuration and frequency had to be precise, as he could not afford Slender Man slipping from his grasp, or, worse, himself falling into Slender Man's grasp. The Proxies could move the emitters if they were not trapped within, but, unable to call upon their master's powers it should be fairly simple to deal with them, using his rather violent associate and his own gun.

If Slender Man dared come for him, he was in for a surprise.

...

The Walcott home,

The assembled pack felt somewhat uncomfortable sitting in the living room of a house once owned by a family of cannibal Wendigos who had been brutally murdered in a room just up the stairs. Not to mention the hidden room beyond the stairs which contained a freezer full of human bodies. It was especially uncomfortable for the only member of said family to have survived the savage assault.

Still, they had to admit, it was much roomier and gave them more privacy than the other meeting places.

"I can't believe it. Who would bug _us?_ Hunters?" Liam asked.

"That's not how hunters usually operate. And I can't see The Slender Man needing to use listening devices to spy on people. It could be the government, it could be that Scientist, it could be an enemy we don't even know about."

"That's all we need, _more_ enemies." Kira moaned and rolled her eyes.

"Where is it? The bug, I mean."

"Danny has it. He's an even better techie than me, if we're lucky and the guy hasn't deactivated it yet, we might be able to trace the signal it's broadcasting back to the receiver."

"Could that put Danny in danger?" Brett asked. "They might be keeping track of those things."

"I doubt it, he's careful with things like that. Besides, _everybody_ loves Danny, even Aiden didn't hate him, he just saw him as threat to Ethan because of Deucalion. If something happened to him, the whole town would chase the guy down."

"Shouldn't we call the police?"

"First rule of The Pack, Sean. We call on The Pack before we call the cops. I love my dad, but sometimes the police just get in the way."

"Can you check the house for more bugs?" Scott was uncomfortable that someone had been listening in on _everything_ going on in the living room for who-knows-how-long. Including certain heated 'study sessions' on that very couch with his girlfriend... "They cold be hidden anywhere."

"Can a fish swim?" Stiles grinned and pulled a small device from his backpack, "I _knew_ this would come in handy one day. It detects transmissions, like those from a bug."

"Sean, are you okay?" Derek looked at Sean, who was staring at the stairs. The stairs that he had taken to his room that awful night.

"Yeah. I'm just... _Thinking_." He swallowed hard. He hated The Mute, even dead he was screwing with his life, his mind. This was his home the home he had shared with his family, Mom, Dad, David... He wasn't so much afraid or anxious as angry. How dare that mouthless bastard come into his family's house, how _dare_ he lift a hand against them!

Derek slung an arm around his shoulder. He knew _that_ kind of thinking well.

"Speaking of killers, has anyone seen Peter lately?" Scott asked, "I know this isn't his style, he's more tear and shred, but if he's running around in the woods he could be in danger."

"Peter Hale, in danger? Even Slender Man wouldn't bother him. You know what happened to Kate, Jennifer and The Mute-" Malia quickly stopped talking as Sean's head shot up.

" _Never_ mention that _creature_ in this house. _Ever_." His voice was bitter and cold, " _It_ does not deserve the honor."

"Sean, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking about... That, I was just thinking about enemies Peter has killed."

Sean gave an odd smile, "It's alright, I should have told everyone, I just do not want _it_ to ever defile this house again."

"So, Peter can take care of himself if he runs into Mr. Neck-Breaker or Mr. Scientist." Stiles said, changing the subject, "I'm more worried about what he might do. Or be doing. He's not exactly rational. He may be hunting The Slender Man himself."

"My uncle's not stupid. He knows when he's outmatched."

"He's a sociopathic killer."

"Maybe, but he's not _the_ sociopathic killer we're looking for." Stiles retorted.

"He goes off alone for days at a time, sometimes weeks. I think he just tries to forget. And you've seen people he killed before he 'reformed', you saw Laura's body..." Derek looked at Stiles and Scott, "And Sean and I personally saw him kill... _You know who_. He has no restraint, he doesn't kill like a human, he kills like a wolf."

"One thing's for sure, the killer's not a Wendigo. I mean, a Wendigo _will_ snap your neck... That's how I killed that deputy." Sean didn't like to bring up the unfortunate deputy he had killed in his feral state, but it was true, as much as he wished otherwise. "Anyway, a Wendigo would stash his kills away or eat them, or at least, part of them. Those bodies were untouched." Sean explained, "Even if someone forced a Wendigo to kill for them, they'd still have to feed him frequently or have him turn on them."

"Him or her." Malia added, "Besides, didn't you say The Voice kid said the killer was human?"

"That depends on your definition of 'human'. We're all people, intelligent, some more so than others, with emotions, feelings, values, or lack thereof. All of you wear human skins, and some of you, like Scott and Liam, were born 'human' to non-supernatural parents." Stiles reasoned, "So I figure you guys are all just different branches of the human family tree. Maybe Wendigo evolved because of a long and terrible famine, or Werewolves to cope with life in the wilderness."

"No." Brett shook his head, "We may be from human stock, but I don't think any natural evolution produced us. We're called ' _supernaturals_ ' for a reason. We've all seen and experienced magic, we've even encountered _demons_ , well, you guys have. And now The Slender Man and his Proxies. We can't deny that supernatural forces exist in the world. I go along the lines of the 'blessing/curse' theory. Perhaps the first Werewolves were blessed by their tribes to become better hunters, and the first Wendigo-"

"Was _cursed_." Sean finished, "That's the traditional view. A Wendigo is a human being cursed with a spirit of insatiable hunger for human flesh as a punishment for cannibalism or excessive greed. Maybe my first ancestor was cursed by a shaman somewhere and became like this... Maybe his family was cursed too, or he married and had kids who passed down the curse."

"Well," Stiles said, "A cursed human is still a human. Not that you have done anything deserving of being cursed. Or any of your family. Or pretty much any other non-killer Wendigo on earth-"

"Shut up Stiles, before you dig an even deeper hole for yourself." Derek growled.

"Shutting up." He made a motion of zipping his lips together.

"It's alright. He was trying to be nice." Sean sighed. It really didn't bother him, besides, Stiles was a great friend, even if he did occasionally say something hurtful, he never meant it. He wondered idly if he might have a form of Tourett's Syndrome. He decided to shift topics slightly, "Stiles, did you ever find anything out about The Slender Man and triangles?"

"Well, nothing specific to him, but the triangle can represent the trinity, the number three, and ideas like past, present and future. Direction is also important, if it's pointing up, it represents male fertility, pointing down, female. It can also represent a spiritual ascent or a decent. The most interesting to us is that some religions view it as a 'Summoning Symbol'. During the ritual the summoned being is supposed to appear within the triangle. Of course, Slender Man was already here when the symbol was arranged, we know that from the tapes. If Slender Man or his Proxies arranged them, they might mean something totally alien, if The Scientist or his pet sociopath arranged them, who knows?"

"How do we know if it was facing up or down without some kind of point of reference?" Brett pointed out, "The bodies were in the middle of the road."

"Since all the bodies were lain out with heads facing Beacon Hills, I'd say it was up." Stiles answered.

"Like a road sign. _Turn Here_." Liam shuddered. "Maybe someone's trying to summon something else? Something to stop The Slender Man."

"I doubt it, we're not that lucky. Probably someone trying to summon The Devil."

...

After several members of The Pack had gone Sean walked over to the stairwell and reached for a key-rack on the wall, removing one with a key ring that held a smiley face with the tongue sticking out.

"This is the key to David's car. _2010 Ford Fusion_ , baby blue. Mom and dad's minivan is in the garage too, if we need something to carry several people at once." He explained to Liam, who was close behind him.

He picked up another key with a key ring charm that depicted The Loch Ness Monster. His father had always had a sense of humor about his homeland. Nessie is much bigger than Bigfoot, he always insisted.

His dad.

 _Son, every Scotsman knows that a kilt with underwear is just a skirt._

Sean smiled at the memory.

Not so much at the memory of that jerk brother of his pulling up his kilt in front of his grandparents when he was eight. He's sworn he'd never forgive David for that, but he had a long time ago.

Besides, he'd given David a nice shiner before mom separated the two of them.

He smiled again and pocketed the keys.

...

To be continued...

Notes

The lifeguard bit is a reference to a Teen Nickelodeon show called _Bucket and Skinner's Epic Adventures_ , in which Glenn McCuen played a narcissistic lifeguard named John _'_ Aloe' Aloysius.

The information on triangles came from a website on alternative religions. These are not all of the possible meanings, and most are simplified here.

Wendigo do not possess enhanced hearing, or Sean would have heard The Mute even before he began killing his family. He would also have heard Willow under the bed. And Patrick would have heard Deaton approaching.

Covenant Elite is a reference to a militaristic alien race, The Sangheili, serving the enemy forces of _The Covenant_ , a genocidal religious empire made up of several alien races in the _Halo_ series video games.

The quote about kilts is not mine, I overheard it from a Scottish-American man at a Festival of Nations event.

Sean's grandparents are dead, he has no close living relatives.

I picked a car at random for David.


	27. Chapter 27

Survival

Chapter 27

Blame

...

"It's just not right, Donovan. You can't blame Stiles for something his father did."

This was not the conversation Sean had expected to be having with his fellow Wendigo when they had headed out to the sporting goods shop in the mall in David's car.

"What's not _right_ , Sean, is that my father is in a wheelchair with a bullet in his spine because 'Sheriff' Stilinski was cowering in his car instead of backing his partner up!" Donovan was breathing heavily, he was scaring Sean, to be honest.

Donovan Donati clearly wasn't well mentally. In fact, Sean had to admit that he was a dangerously unbalanced individual.

Apparently Franco Donati and John Stilinski were partners while working as beat cops. At the sight of a robbery John was calling for back-up and Franco was approaching the building when one of the attackers shot him, piercing his spine and leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Somehow the unstable Donovan Donati believed that the Sheriff was responsible, and was willing to take out his anger on Stiles as well.

He was afraid that Donovan would do something very, very foolish and possibly deadly. To either himself, Stiles, the Sheriff or all three.

And he certainly didn't want that to happen.

"Donovan, you have no idea how the Stilinski's have suffered since then. Stiles' mother died in front of him when he was six years old. He was the only one there. He has more mental and emotional problems than I do, and he's been tortured in ways neither of us can imagine, physically, mentally and spiritually. His father has suffered watching his wife slowly die and his son go through an almost literal Hell and being unable to anything about it." He parked his brother's car near the mall's sporting goods store, "I can't tell you everything that happened, but Stiles' life has been worse than mine."

"Are you defending him because he's pack?"

"Yes, but that's not the only reason. I'm defending him because he's a friend. I'm defending him because it's wrong to hurt a kid for their parent's mistakes. I'm defending him because I can see the suffering in his eyes so clearly that it makes me hurt. Please, Donovan, don't do anything to them."

"If I wanted to hurt him, who would you choose, me, or him?"

Sean didn't want to answer that question, "Donovan. You've suffered so much. Your dad has suffered so much. But we all suffer, and Stiles has been forced to do things no one should ever have to experience. He's broken, Donovan. Hurting him would be like kicking a sick kitten." He looked his fellow Wendigo straight in the eyes, "If it came to it, I'd help Stiles. You can't punish a boy for his father's mistake's. And he's in a living Hell already, I won't let you add more fuel to the fire."

Donovan looked at him in disbelief, "You'd fight a fellow Wendigo? To protect a human?"

Sean turned his eyes away, "You need to talk to someone else, Donovan. Your father maybe, tell him how you feel. Maybe he can help you get past this anger."

"You mean I should see a shrink? Maybe go to Eichen House? You think I'm crazy?" It was an accusation.

"Listen. Ever since my family was murdered I've had to live with that pain, that grief, and yes, that rage. I saw The Mute die in front of me, he died in agony. It made me feel safer, but it didn't make the pain and the loss go away. Even the rage is still with me, he's dead and I'm still angry." He had to choose his words carefully, "Your father was a police officer, a _hero_. He was shot in the line of duty, and the guy who shot him was killed in the firefight. I think you needed someone to blame, someone to direct your rage towards. So you directed it at his partner. I wasn't there, I don't know what Stilinski did or didn't do, so I can't defend or condemn him, all I can say is the man who hurt your father is dead, and the man you blame for your father being shot lives each day in pain and fear. His son lives each day in crippling despair and mental agony. Isn't that enough? Would your father want you to hurt Stiles or John, to get yourself arrested or killed breaking the law and hurting an innocent boy or a law enforcement officer, which is a Federal Crime? Or would he want you to make the best of yourself?"

"How can I do that, when Stilinski kept me from being on the force?"

"That wasn't his decision, it was the decision of a psychologist who-"

There was a knocking on the driver's side window, and both occupants jumped.

Outside stood a teenage boy in a _Linkin Park_ t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers. He wore a dark beanie on his head.

Sean rolled down the window, "Do you need help or something?"

"No. _He_ sent me. I am His Left Hand."

"What the Hell's he talking about?" Donovan said as Sean slowly got out of the car.

"What does He want with me?"

"To send a message to your pack." The Left Hand handed him a sheet of paper, "He wants to help you." The boy's voice was eerily even, almost a monotone.

Sean looked at the paper as Donovan got out and circled round the car.

"You didn't answer my question."

"'He' is my master. The Slender Man. He Who Lurks in The Darkness, The Faceless Devourer."

"But, he doesn't exist, he's just a myth."

The boy turned to the right, and there he was, ten vertical feet of darkness, of _wrongness_.

"You are quite mistaken, Donovan Donati, as you can see." The boy vanished, but The Faceless One remained for a moment, standing still and silent before disappearing into a mass of darkness.

"S-Sean..." Donovan whispered. "We have to get out of here, now."

"We're safer here. He won't come back." Sean tried to hide the anxiety in his voice. He was surprised he wasn't having a panic attack, he wasn't even really that frightened. He was still scared, yes, but he'd seen The Slender Man before and came out unscathed. He no longer seemed like an immediate danger, just another supernatural creature. He looked at the paper. It featured a 'portrait' of The Slender Man and the words ' _Dr. Simon Altman_ '

Simon Altman, where had he heard that name before?

"Sean, was that really... _Him_?"

Sean turned to Donovan, "It's okay. If he wanted to hurt us, we'd know it. He's after someone else, a killer." He put his hands on his shoulders, "I want you to promise me not to tell anyone about this. If word gets out, everyone in town will be all over the forest and who knows how many people could get hurt or killed. Understand?"

"Y-Yeah."

"I've got to call The Pack, let them know we saw him again, and about the note..." He pulled out his phone, "Wait a minute! I knew I'd heard that name before!"

...

"Simon Altman, the guy who went missing and left his truck running on the road?" Stiles asked, looking over the paper, "I was kind of expecting him to be one of our teachers. I was about to finger Mr. Baker from chemistry. Maybe he was an ex-teacher? What did he do for a living?" He asked Parrish.

"Simon was a mechanic, he owned the scrapyard on 42nd. According to his file he's been living here since 1987. He only had one brush with the law, he was caught trespassing on Hale land."

"I'm not old enough to remember that." Derek shook his head, "I wasn't even born. Peter wasn't even around then."

"Did it say what he was looking for?" Scott asked.

"No. Just that he was carrying some strange equipment and looking at trees."

"The Nemeton. He was looking for The Nemeton. What else could it be?" Derek responded.

Scott turned to Stiles, "Stiles, find out what you can dig up online about Simon Altman, what schools he went to, if he went to college, and most importantly, if he's a scientist of any kind."

"And if he has any friends with a history of mental illness."

"Right on it!" Stiles pulled out his iPad.

"Stiles, wait a second, I need to talk to you." Sean said gravely, stepping close to the taller boy.

"I can do more than one thing at once, Sean."

"It's about Donovan Donati..." He said sadly, he couldn't let Donovan hurt Stiles or his father, but he was still betraying another Wendigo, a friend's, trust, "I think he's going insane. He hates you. I mean violently _hates_ you and your dad. He hates your dad because his dad got shot and paralyzed while the were partners in the police department. He hates you because you're John Stilinski's kid. I tried to reason with him, to talk to him, but I think he's too far past that. I think he wants to hurt you, both of you."

Stiles turned pale and looked up from the screen. Anger and fear mixed in those amber eyes. "He threatened my dad?"

"Did he make any _specific_ threats?" Parrish asked.

"No. He didn't say it directly, but he implied it, and he didn't deny it when I tried to convince him that it wasn't right." He took a deep breath and turned to Stiles, "He even asked if who's side I'd take if he did try to hurt you. He got angry when I said I'd try to help you. He's not well. He's not himself. I had to warn you, you're my friend, my pack brother."

Stiles felt numb, a Wendigo wanted to hurt him, hurt his dad, because someone else shot his father and his own dad couldn't stop it? "Where is he?"

"He took a bus home. He couldn't stand it here, not after seeing The Slender Man. He was terrified."

"Thank you, Sean." Stiles said softly. One didn't usually hear him so... Tired? "I gotta' call my dad."

"He hasn't broken the law yet." Parrish reminded him.

"With an emphasis on ' _yet_ '. I have to warn dad about Donovan, he probably doesn't suspect a thing. Oh my God, what if Donovan took the bus to the station? What if he's already there?!" Stiles breathing and heart rate were accelerating, he was having a panic attack, "What if he's _eating_ him?!"

Sean could feel the terror radiating off of his friend. He wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles' chest. "I heard him tell the driver his address. He's at home."

"He could have got off somewhere else!" Stiles was crying now

"Stiles! The bus was headed to other side of town! Your dad's alright!" Sean said firmly. He held him tighter as he began trembling. "Remember what you taught me ' _The Sun, The Moon, and The Truth_ '. Repeat it, The Sun, The Moon, and The Truth."

"T-The Sun, The Moon, and The Truth..."

With Sean wrapped around him, Scott's hands on his shoulders, the mantra and his friends' encouragement, Stiles calmed after about five minutes.

"It's okay guys," He said weakly, sniffling loudly, "I'm alright now. Besides, you do realize we have an _audience_?"

Everyone looked around to see dozens of people staring at them in curiosity.

"Nothing to see here folks." Parrish said, "Just go about your business." He turned to Stiles, "I called your dad. He's fine, and he's on his way now. I told him about Donovan, and he said he'd keep an eye out."

"Thanks," Stiles wiped his tears away, "Sean, anyone ever tell you you'd make a good wrestler? That bear hug could've held down an actual bear."

Sean smiled, "I'll keep that in mind next time I see a bear."

...

John Stilinski took in the information about Simon Altman, The Slender Man sighting, word of yet another Proxy bearing a note and Sean's warning about a mentally unstable Wendigo who blamed him for his father getting paralyzed and was perfectly willing to take it out on Stiles.

"Should we put out an APB on Donati?"

"He hasn't done anything. But assign a man to watch him, plainclothes. I don't want him coming near Stiles." He really should drag the kid in for interrogation, but that would only make him angrier and they'd have to let him go anyway. "But put out an APB on Simon Altman. I doubt he's stupid enough to show his face in town, but I want him taken in for question if he does. I'll try to get a warrant on his house and other property, if the state hasn't already claimed it."

"I got it! Simon Altman has a doctorate in theoretical physics and quantum mechanics. He's also a mechanical engineer. Fits perfectly." Stiles said, somewhat pleased with himself. "He had some interesting ideas on the String Theory concept, and published a paper on the possibility of inter-dimensional travel. The scientific community laughed it off. A few bodies turned up, and he vanished in 1985."

"And moved to Beacon Hills in 1987." The Sheriff finished, "What was that about bodies?"

"Some of his biggest critics were found dead after he disappeared. I'm pretty sure it wasn't a coincidence."

"How did they die?"

"They were shot. No neck-breaker, yet. There are a few known serial killers who break their victims' necks, but they usually do other things to them as well, and don't arrange them in geometric patterns. There is one, The Break-Neck Killer, who was active in Oregon until a few months ago. He just kills for kicks, apparently, no pattern to his victims beyond stalking and method of murder."

"I'll contact The Oregon police, tell them about our killings, without The Slender Man, of course. They may have leads or suspects."

Stiles' ringtone began, it was Danny.

"Hey, Danny."

"I found where the transmissions were coming from- Stop that Josh! Not now... Is that _frosting?_ "

"Danny, this is kind of important, people's lives depend on it."

"But Josh is wearing nothing but Raspberry frosting in all the right places!"

"TMI."

"Okay, you know the old abandoned Henley place, that's supposed to be haunted? It's haunted alright, by whoever bugged Scott's house. At least, the set-up's there."

"The old Henley place? Thank's Danny, enjoy your cake!"

"I will. Believe me, I will."

...

To be continued...

Notes

Another Proxy appears! The Left Hand.

If I got Stiles' age wrong, please let me know.

Why isn't Sean terrified of Slender Man? When you keep popping up and doing nothing, you start to lose some of that mysterious evil entity factor. He's still afraid of him, but not enough to run away at the sight of him anymore.

Once again his bond with The Pack leads him into potential conflict with a fellow Wendigo.

Mr. Donati was not given a first name on the show, that I'm aware of. So I named him Franco.

Glenn McCuen is 5'7" tall, meaning he is one inch taller than me (and a Hell of a lot better looking) and shorter than almost 80% of men in the U.S. I also found a picture of him doing the gymnastics pose I described back in chapter 15, with his legs horizontally stretched in opposite directions, but he wasn't standing on his head like in the story.

Unlike Sean, Glenn is also a martial artist. And a wrestler. Seriously, this guy does just about everything from gymnastics to singing to wrestling to playing the guitar...


	28. Chapter 28

Survival

Chapter 28

The Old Henley Place

...

"Thanks. About Donovan."

Sean turned to Stiles. "You would have done the same thing. And you helped me through my first panic attack, that night I stumbled into Scott's house. You guys saved my life." He smiled, "Besides, I owe you for that sucker punch."

Stiles smiled, "That was a bit harsh." He rubbed his jaw dramatically, "I think it's still a little out of alignment..."

"Need some corrective surgery?" Sean made a mock punching motion.

Stiles laughed, "No thanks."

The group was headed toward the old Henley house in Stiles' jeep and Lydia's car, and Sean was riding with Stiles', not wanting David's car to be in the line of fire if the trigger-happy doctor tried anything.

"I also want to help Donovan. He's not a bad person, he's just sick, you know?"

"Believe me, I know."

"Even if he never forgives me, maybe at least he'll be able to get some help." Sean looked out the window at the rows of seemingly peaceful houses. Who knew what really lurked inside?

"And I know you probably want to go threaten him away," He looked at Derek, who grimaced back at him, "But that might just make him worse. When we get scared _and_ angry, that's when the trouble starts. Add mental illness in, and it's an explosion waiting to happen."

Stiles smirked, "Like Liam."

"I don't think you hit him hard enough the first time, Sean. Next time at least break his jaw." Liam called petulantly from the back.

"Sounds like Baby Wolf needs his diaper changed."

"I'm pretty sure that smell is all of your BS."

"We're almost there." Scott replied, "Remember when we snuck in as kids to look for the ghost of old man Henley?"

Stiles laughed, "And got scared off by a pigeon..."

"It was a very big pigeon. Biggest pigeon I've ever seen. And all those creepy masks."

Derek groaned as they pulled onto the lawn after the Sheriff's car. A police cruiser with lights flashing took the driveway and Lydia parked by the curb a house down, out of the way in case they needed to get out quickly.

As Parrish and deputy Greenberg took the door, Derek and Scott circled round back to cut off any escape. When no one answered, Parrish took kicked the door in. The Sheriff ordered the kids to stay outside, so naturally, Stiles and most of the others followed him in.

Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered.

...

The home was surprisingly free of dust and cobwebs, clear evidence that someone was indeed living there. The furniture was from the sixties, some of it threadbare, moth-eaten, but clean. Computer disks were scattered across the living room table, as were delicate tools and several half-constructed devices.

There was a small collection of Carnival Masques hanging on the walls, and Sean noted one in particular.

"Hey, a Plague Doctor Masque." Sean picked up the item. It was some sort of glazed ceramic, a simple light tan masque with amber glass eyes and a long, tapering beak. It fit almost like a gas mask. "They used to fill these with herbs, thinking it would keep out the 'bad humors' that caused plague. Never really worked though, because it was fleas." He sniffed it to be sure it was safe and put it on, strapping it securely. "I wonder if they have a black hat, gloves, stick and cloak?"

"It's like SCP-049. The Plague Doctor." Stiles noted.

"What's a SCP?" Sean asked.

"People like us, but some are far more dangerous."

"It's also potential evidence." The Sheriff said, "Besides, you can order the whole costume on Ebay or Amazon."

"Sheriff, I think you need to take a look at this." Parrish emerged from a side room, "Sean, you better stay here." Parrish did a double take at the boy in the bird-like mask.

"Stay here Sean, I mean it." Sheriff Stilinski said sternly, then went into the room and shut the door behind him.

It was an office, filled with books covering everything from Anatomical Anomalies to theoretical physics to the occult. Books on Werewolves, hidden creatures and mythology nestled next to technical manuals. A lot of empty spaces in the shelves and lack of clutter on the desk indicated the owner had packed up and left. But it was the other item on one of the shelves that troubled them.

A human skull with it's jaws molded shut. A deep gouge made by claws marred one side of the head.

"It's The Mute alright." The Sheriff nodded grimly.

"How?"

"Someone must have dug up the carcass. It might be a good idea to get Sean to leave before he sees this."

"There's something else," Parrish said, holding up a single piece of paper.

"Oh, God, not another one."

 _He knows who you are, what you want. His eyeless gaze is upon you always. And he will punish you._

"I don't think this one was meant for us."

...

The Sheriff walked out of the room,

"Okay, everybody except Stiles, Derek and Scott should go home."

"Did you find a body?"

"Like none of you have seen a dead body before? No, we didn't find a body." _Just a skull._ "We found some items of interest, and we need Stiles to deal with the technical equipment, Derek to search for clues like scents and Scott because he's the Alpha." He turned to Sean, "Just take the mask. If we need it we'll know where to find it. It probably belonged to old Jack Henley anyway."

"Thank you sir." Sean fastened the mask back on.

"Well we know what you're going to be at our next costume party." Lydia remarked, "It looks good on you."

"You guys actually hold masquerades?"

"No, we have costume parties, masks aren't needed. But they're welcome. The Jungle has masquerades every _Mardis Gras_. Next year you'll be old enough to enter legally, just not to drink."

"But I'm not Catholic."

"That's never stopped anyone before." Lydia remarked, "We won't all fit in the car. Brett is like eight feet tall and Liam's been eating way too many sweets lately."

"I'm not fat!" Liam rolled his eyes, "Why does everyone always pick on me? I'm not even the shortest anymore, not since Sean made pack."

"Yes, but you're still the adorable little pack puppy." Sean pinched Liam's cheek, "And remember, we short guys have to stick together."

Brett slapped him on the rear, "Relax, it's just baby fat, It'll wear off once you hit puberty."

Liam growled at his friend. Who did that beanpole think he was?

"I already hit puberty! I have more body hair than you do." Liam stated proudly.

Lydia groaned, "TMI!"

"I'll just walk home." Kira said, "I want to look around some."

Malia followed her, "I'll go with you before I choke on all the testosterone."

"Thanks, I don't want to catch estrogen by osmosis." Brett smiled.

Malia shot him the bird and walked away.

"So it's me, bird boy, beanpole and shorty." Lydia shrugged. "Could'a been worse, could'a been Stiles and Grumpy Cat."

"Shorty!?"

Sean wrapped an arm around Liam's shoulders, "I know how you feel. I'm the shortest in The Pack, remember?"

Liam pouted, "You're also the most muscular, behind Brett."

The Wendigo nodded, "Yeah, Brett _is_ freakishly tall and muscular for his age."

Brett just smirked, "Jealous."

"Sean, you _do_ realize you're still wearing that mask, right?"

...

"Derek, do you have enough of a scent to work with?"

"More than enough."

"Is there more than one scent?"

"Two, one an old man, the other younger. The younger guy is probably our neck-breaker. I got a faint third, but it was old man Henley's residual scent, he lived here since before I was born. I remember it from when we buried him."

"See if you can follow The Neck-Breaker's trail. Don't try to bring him in unless absolutely necessary. Just call the department to take him in."

Derek smiled thinly, "Worried I'll get hurt?"

"Let's just say I don't want The Pack to lose _anyone_ else."

"Okay, I'll play it safe. Unless he makes me mad." He turned slightly, "What was in that room you didn't want Sean to see?"

Sheriff Stilinski answered by walking into the room and emerging with The Mute's skull.

Derek's frown deepened and Scott gasped.

"I don't think he wants to see this bastard's face again, do you? Even like this?"

Derek just nodded, glaring at the skull as if he could torment it's owner even in death.

...

Peter Hale crouched in the brush as the two men worked on the machinery around The Nemeton, an array of small devices resembling spotlights were set up in a triangle around the stump of the supernatural tree, while a small metal pole with flashing lights had been driven into it's core.

He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

He could easily overpower and kill them both, but he was a little curious as to what the older man, whom he recognized as Simon Altman, was babbling about. 'Frequencies' and 'inter-dimensional displacement' and 'Slender Man'. The younger man was now placing candles on the stump, evidently this was a mixture or scientific and supernatural work. As they began to discuss The McCall Pack he pulled himself up and stepped out of the bushes, in Werewolf form.

"You gentlemen do realize that you're conducting this little ritual on my family's property, don't you?"

The younger man made as if to strike but the elder held him back.

"Peter Hale, I hadn't expected to see you here."

"It seems like we've both come back from the dead, Simon. You've been missing almost a month now."

"So I have." He said carefully.

"And I see you've found The Nemeton, I assume you know what it is. Something tells me you are more than a simple scrapyard owner."

"Right again. The Nemeton is a beacon to all things supernatural, and I have waited years for it to bring The Slender Man to me."

"I don't know about this 'Slender Man', but if I had to guess I'd say you intend to amplify the resonance of The Nemeton to drag him into your little triangle. Hunting?"

"And much, much more." He sighed, "The Slender Man is a force of pure evil, a living bogeyman. He kidnaps children, taking them God-only-knows where and brainwashing some of them to become his slaves, his 'Proxies'."

"And you intend to stop him out of the goodness of your heart?" Peter gave a half snort, half growl, "People like you and I rarely do things for the greater good."

Simon smiled, "You're more intelligent than people give you credit for. Why play the madman?"

"You're less intelligent than you think you are, if you believe that I am merely playing." He smiled in a terrible way, "Being burned alive, watching my family die in agony, spending over a decade in a coma, dying and coming back... Those things tend to take a toll on one's mind."

"No doubt. How unfortunate."

Peter moved toward him as he reached down to activate the beacon, but was repelled, a thick line of Mountain Ash had been drawn around the area.

"I haven't worked this long to be stopped so easily. I will have ultimate power very soon."

Peter just laughed. This was going to be fun. "Pride comes before the fall, Simon. Trust me, I know."

Simon ignored the jab.

As the two men left the triangle, yet remained within the safety of the Mountain Ash barrier, the beacon activated, shooting light between all of the smaller amplifiers and sending a black bolt of energy straight into the sky.

Peter felt it pulling at him, but it wasn't attuned to Werewolves, Wendigo or Kitsune. It was attuned to The Slender Man.

Unable to act, he waited to see what the fool would reel in.

He saw Derek rush into the clearing and run head on into the barrier, such an impulsive young man. "It's no good, Derek, he's surrounded it with Mountain Ash. He's dug his own grave."

"What are you doing here, Peter?"

"Watching. And from the pull of this thing, we're going to have a lot of company very soon."

...

All across Beacon Hills every supernatural resident felt the sudden, violent jolt of the activated beacon.

And most headed towards it.

This would be an interesting day for Beacon Hills.

...

To be continued...

Notes

Another Greenberg!

Masks and Masques. Masque just looks more sophisticated in writing.

SCP - _Secure. Contain. Protect_. An amoral, sometime evil organization that captures non-human entities and 'contains' them. They think nothing of sacrificing human lives to research the creatures should they prove dangerous. Each is listed by a SCP-number. _SCP-049_ , The Plague Doctor, appears to be a Plague Doctor from the Middle Ages, though it/he wears a hood instead of a top hat. It 'cures' people of some 'plague' known only to itself by killing them (with a simple touch) and then reanimating them through surgery as mindless zombies. It's one of the most popular SCP creatures. Sean has no knowledge of the SCP fan base, but he learned about Plague Doctors while being home schooled.

If you want to learn about Plague Doctors or SCP-049 just look them up online.


	29. Chapter 29

Survival

Chapter 29

We are now controlling this transmission.

...

The pull was so strong that Lydia almost ran the car off the road. She stopped in the street as everyone turned to look back at the black column rising into the sky.

"Oh man! What the Hell just happened?" Liam maneuvered for a better look. "What is that thing?"

"It's The Nemeton. Something terrible's happened." Lydia said as she swung the car into a u-turn and sped off toward the ancient tree.

Sean frowned beneath the mask he was still wearing, "Lydia, I know this is an emergency, but isn't The Nemeton in a forest? Can your car go off-road?"

"We're about to find out."

Brett turned, "Buckle up, Liam. I have a feeling we're going to have a bumpy ride."

Liam let out a little shriek as Lydia accelerated. "I can't believe I survived all that crap just to die in a car accident!"

...

Scott's head whipped around and his eyes began to glow red.

"What is it?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"It's The Nemeton." Stiles answered. He could feel it's call too, "It's like someone took the beacon and magnified it a hundred times."

"We have to get out there." Scott said.

"Not without me." Stilinski turned, "Parrish, you come with me, Greenberg, finish up here."

"Yes, sir!"

By the time they reached the patrol car, Stiles and Scott were already in the jeep, speeding away.

...

Seven teenagers appeared around the triangle, just outside the line of Mountain Ash as an eighth figure, tall, spindly and dark, appeared within the triangle, struggling against the transmitter. Altman picked up a small, circular device and energy began streaming from the transmitter, through the device and into him, bathing him in darkness.

The younger man jumped out of the barrier and lept upon the nearest proxy, a blonde haired girl in a floral-patterned sun dress. He gripped her viciously by the head and twisted.

Nothing happened. It was as if her neck were made of steel fibers. Her slim hands took him by the head, "I am His Right Hand. And you are a fool." She twisted his head 180 degrees with a horrible snapping sound, and The Break-Necker fell dead, a look of astonishment frozen on his face.

Stiles' jeep roared into the clearing, followed closely by the Sheriff's patrol car and Lydia's car. The entire pack except Kira and Malia had arrived. Various supernatural beings were running toward the beacon, and everything was chaos.

They could catch glimpses of Simon's body twisting in the darkness, tentacles sprouting from his back, his old body standing straight and tall. The Slender Man seemed to be dwindling within the geometric prison.

"Prepare to meet your new god!" A voice boomed from the darkness.

Peter Hale rolled his eyes.

 _Idiot._

Sean Walcott looked over the instruments feeding power into Altman while draining power from The Nemeton and The Slender Man. With his enhanced vision it was possible to get a very close look at the equipment. It was a complicated arrangement of precision high-tech gear. It probably needed to be perfectly aligned, and it looked fragile...

 _What if...?_

He pulled out his cell phone, and threw it as hard as he could into the nearest amplifier.

The explosion knocked everyone back several feet as the flow of darkness reversed itself, feeding _into_ The Nemeton and The Slender Man.

 _"NO!"_ A scream of horror came from within the roiling darkness.

The Slender Man grew and grew and the blackened stump began to grow vibrant and sprout new bark and small twigs.

The transmitter exploded, and a great darkness settled around The Nemeton before vanishing into the earth.

Simon, now a groping, eyeless humanoid with tendrils of darkness growing from his back, felt long appendages wrap around his body, and screamed. The Slender Man pulled him into an embrace and vanished into darkness, taking six of his Proxies with him.

The Voice stood, looking over the assembled supernaturals with that bizarre grin. He looked at Sean, with the Plague Doctor mask still on his face, and nodded in approval. He looked down at the now living Nemeton, the destroyed equipment and the dead serial killer. "He is finished here. Justice has been served."

The Voice vanished, following his master to wherever it dwelt.

"Okay." Sheriff Stilinski was dumbstruck, "What the Hell just happened?"

Peter Hale turned to his nephew, "I tried to tell him it wouldn't work. Oh well."

He walked over and patted Sean on the back, "Nice job, kid. Why am I not surprised non of the police thought to shoot the damn things..."

...

No one knew whether to cheer or not, but McCall looked happy so they figured it was a good thing, or that he was just an idiot.

Sean removed his mask and looked around at all the people. Wendigo, Werewolves, Were-Rats, Were-Coyotes, Banshees, Reptilians and Serpent People, Fae, a Lesser Oni, a few Sasquatches, a Dire Squirrel...

He spotted Donovan in the stunned and confused crowd.

"Dude. I think you're going to need a new phone." Donovan said flatly.

"Hopefully my warranty will cover it. Besides, I was never much for texting."

"Ever since I talked with you I've had a police officer following me around."

Sean looked away, "I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt. I think you need help, Donovan."

"Who doesn't?"

"I'm serious. You're my friend, Stiles is my friend and The Sheriff has helped me out a lot since everything happened with The Mute. Don't force me to choose."

"Okay, okay! Geez, you're like an afterschool special or something." He turned his head, "But I can't afford any kind of head-shrinker."

"Dr. Gilman, my psychiatrist, he's a supernatural like us, he can organize that kind of thing for 'special' patients like us." Sean looked into his wallet and pulled out the psychiatrist's card, "Call him and tell him I gave you his card."

Donovan looked down at the card and sighed, "Yeah. Thanks, Sean. And thanks for stopping that idiot."

"Somehow I think he would have made a _terrible_ god..."

...

The police began clearing up the Mountain Ash as Sheriff Stilinski and his human officers processed the scene. One dead. One missing, presumed wishing he were dead. One destroyed cell phone belonging to one Wendigo named Sean Walcott. A lot of broken scientific toys. A lot of Mountain Ash. And a tree that was dead but came back to life by draining dark energy from some god-forsaken source.

Just another day in Beacon Hills.

...

The Walcott home,

"So what does it mean? The Nemeton is alive again, The Slender Man is gone."

"The Nemeton has been recharged by whatever power source The Slender Man and his Proxies are using. Depending upon the nature of that energy, we could end up with all sorts of new arrivals." Deaton explained.

"Great. Now everyone's going to come... I can't stand tourists." Stiles grumbled.

"I'm sure people feel the same about you when you're on vacation." SCott pointed out, "Remember Tijuana? When we got arrested for being drunk and underage? That big guy from jail who wanted to make you his _Puta de Carcel_?"

"I'm not _that_ desperate to lose my virginity."

Brett threw up his hands, "Malia, would you please sleep with Stiles already so he'll shut up about his damn virginity!"

Malia laughed, "I enjoy the begging."

"The begging gets _better_ when he _knows_ what he's missing out on! Trust me, Mason does it all the time!"

" _TMI!_ " Liam shuddered at the thought of his best friend and his friendly rival doing _it_.

Malia turned to Stiles, "My place, eight."

"There is a God!" Stiles looked up in adoration.

And so, Stiles Stilinski had a stupid grin on his face for the rest of the meeting.

"So, down to business," Scott said, "First, Sean needs a new cell phone, after his last one sacrificed itself to save the world."

Sean dabbed at a nonexistent tear, "It was a brave little cell phone."

"Second, now that The Nemeton is active again, we need to get ready for all kinds of strange stuff to start. Like Stiles losing his virginity."

"Third, we... Uh... I could swear there were three points to this..."

"We could all thank Sean for saving our pathetic asses." Derek replied. "That phone didn't throw itself."

After a few moments of congratulations and thanks, somebody yelled, " _Puppy Pile!_ " and Sean found himself between Liam and Scott before he knew what hit him.

...

Sean had returned to the house numerous times since the murders, trying to get himself used to the now lonely and pain-filled void that was once a happy home. But he had not slept there, or even stayed the night. Now he lay amidst a group of sleeping supernaturals, his arms wrapped around Liam and Scott's arms around him. Malia and Stiles had left, for which he was infinitely grateful, as he did not want to personally witness Stiles' deflowering. The presence of The Pack warmed and comforted him, like a blanket wrapped around him, protecting him from the darkness and the memories. The screams and snarls, the blood dripping from The Mute's tomahawk and coating Willow's fur... He didn't think of it at all, only the warmth and the soothing scent of peacefully sleeping wolves. He held Liam closer and drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

...

To be continued...

Notes

 _Puta de Carcel_ \- Prison Bitch. I think... That's what the translation site said, anyway.

You do _not_ want to run into Dire Squirrel in a back alley.

Now we meet The Right Hand.

Thus far we have -

The Voice

The Right Hand

The Left Hand

Hoodie/ The Recorder

The others are -

The Eye

The Listener

The Searcher/Scout


	30. Chapter 30

Survival

Chapter 30

Astomi and Memories

...

"So, how do we explain this away?" Parrish asked of the Sheriff.

"We don't, unless the feds com along. Then we tell the the truth-"

"The _TRUTH?_ " He said in disbelief.

"A lunatic was putting on a pyrotechnic light show, something when wrong, bang! One dead, one missing. No Slender Man. No Proxies. No mad scientists or creepy black energy streams. Just a magic show gone bad. It's not like Bigfoot's going to testify."

"What about The Break-Necker?"

"Bastard picked the wrong girl to attack, martial artist. She snapped his neck like a twig. It's the truth, isn't it? He's in the morgue wearing his head backwards. We ship the carcass to Seattle and let the families know he won't be hurting anyone else ever again."

"At least _some_ good came out of this. I wonder what happened to Simon?"

"It's probably better we don't know."

"You know, Sean saved us all back there. If he hadn't thought to disrupt the transmission by destroying that machine..."

"I know. We owe all of those kids big time. Even Stiles."

...

Sean decided to drive David's car to school after dropping Liam off at home to change and get his things. His parents were nice, and not just because they knew him from the suffering he'd endured. He'd briefly met Liam's stepfather at the hospital, where he was a doctor, but he hadn't met his mother. Liam had warned him that neither of his parents knew what he was now, or that Sean had been the one to kidnap Liam from his hospital room, before Scott kidnapped him.

"So, Sean. I heard you're living with the McCall's." Liam's stepfather said, "I know Melissa McCall well. Do you like it there?"

"Uh, yes sir. Mrs. McCall and Scott have helped me in more ways than I can count. I'd literally be dead by now if they hadn't taken me in when that monster forced me into hiding."

"You saved Liam's life when he fell down that abandoned well." Mrs. Dunbar said, "We can never repay you for that."

 _I'm the reason he was in that well..._

"I wasn't the only one, Scott, Stiles, Derek Hale. We're all close now, almost like a pack. He's like family. The little brother I never had." Sean smiled sadly. _I used to be a little brother, once..._

Mrs. Dunbar wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug while her husband patted him on the back.

"Whatever the case, thank God he had you."

Sean couldn't help it. He started crying. These people were thanking them for saving their son after he nearly killed him and gotten him bitten by a Werewolf.

"Sean. What's wrong?" They looked at him in concern.

Sometimes it's hard, and sometimes it's painful. They had no clue what he'd done to their son.

"I just... Need a minute..."

"Sean, You alright?" Liam walked into the living room carrying his lacrosse gear.

"Yes." He fought to get a hold of himself, "Just, bad memories of the hospital."

Liam nodded, he knew exactly what Sean meant. "It all worked out in the end, right?"

Sean smiled, "Yeah. It did, didn't it?"

"Now c'mon, before we're late for school." He turned to his parents, "Bye."

"Goodbye." Sean said softly as he turned to leave.

"Sean, if you ever need anything, someone to talk too..."

"Thank you." He nodded and walked away rather quickly.

"Dude, what happened?"

"They thanked me for saving your life. I nearly killed you. I would have killed you. The Mute saved your life when he stabbed me." He gave a strange laugh, "How's that for irony?"

"Well, you did save my life. You have to stop blaming yourself. There's enough blame for everybody, including me. I got mad at those idiots and made a stupid move. So, in a way, it was my fault, too. And Scott would have pulled me up anyway, with or without you or The Mute. I'm sure as Hell not going to thank that freak for nearly killing you, for killing your family. He didn't do that to help me, he did that because he was an evil, greedy son of a mouthless bitch who liked seeing people die." He hugged Sean.

"Dude, not in public!" Sean whispered.

...

When they arrived at Beacon Hills High Stiles still had big, goofy grin on his face.

Sean laughed at the fact that he was wearing a _red_ hoodie of all things...

Little Red Riding Hood and The Big Bad Wolf.

Stiles evidently didn't hear him.

"I wonder who'll start bragging first?" Sean asked.

"Stiles, definitely. And as soon as Danny hears, everybody in town will know."

"I wonder what Sheriff Stilinski will think?"

Liam shrugged, "He's probably going to be happy that Stiles will finally shut up about being a virgin."

Sean wasn't about to admit to anyone that he'd spent last night with a fifteen-year old boy in his arms while Scott McCall was spooning him. Okay, so it was just an innocent 'Puppy Pile', but it still sounded bad. At least he'd gotten a good night's sleep in his own home again, for the first time since the massacre.

"Well, I've got English, so I'll see you later." Liam smiled and walked over to Mason, who was also heading to English class.

...

He went into chemistry and sat down next to Ian. It was still odd to know that the casually dressed young man next to him had been hitting on him at _The Jungle_ wearing little more than a thong and some body paint.

"Hey, I suppose you heard about Stiles?"

"Yeah."

"It's a pity." He sighed, "All the hot guys are straight."

"That's not true, you're gay. Danny's gay. Josh is gay. Mason's gay. Brett's bi."

"And they're all taken." Ian smiled, "Are you saying I'm hot?"

"I'm saying you shouldn't have trouble finding companionship. And I'm not sure about Stiles, either, I think he may be bi."

"I'm not stupid enough to trespass on Malia Tate's territory."

"Tate?" Sean really was surprised now, "I thought her name was Hale?"

"No. I heard a rumor," He leaned in close to whisper, "That her father is Peter Hale, that's why she goes by Tate."

"I know Peter Hale. He's scary, but he seems like a fairly nice guy."

"Then you probably don't know Peter Hale as well as you think."

"All right students," Mr. Baker began, "I hope everyone has done their homework, because there _will_ be a test."

...

After school, the parking area of Eichen House,

Sean and Deaton sat in Deaton's car as they prepared to go visit Patrick. Deaton had said he was doing well, but Wendigo were masters of deception.

"Sean," Deaton said gravely, "There's something I need to tell you before we go in."

Sean looked at him curiously.

"The Mute, he... He wasn't the only one of his kind."

Sean sat bolt upright. "I thought he was just deformed?"

"No. He was an _Astomi_. Born without mouths. In ancient Greece and Rome they were said to survive by the scent of aromatic fruits and flowers, and that certain foul scents could kill them. And there's an Astomi woman in the 'Special Cases' are of Eichen House."

Sean swallowed deeply, his breath coming a bit heavier, "If he'd lived, they'd have taken him here, wouldn't they?"

"Probably. He couldn't have survived in a normal prison environment."

Sean took a deep breath through his nose, calming himself. After a moment he spoke.

"If there's a woman with no mouth in there, it doesn't matter. She's not him. To blame someone for something another member of their race did is stupidity at its highest point." He turned to Deaton, "But seeing an Astomi, it might affect me, right?"

"It's very likely."

He pulled out his medication.

"You know, you won't be able to medicate your way out of every stressful situation."

"I don't know if you could handle a Wendigo panic attack, or survive one."

"Probably not."

...

Sean walked into the 'Special Cases' ward with Deaton and an orderly by his side.

Deaton hadn't been lying.

He stopped for a moment in front of a room with a woman who had no mouth. They studied each other carefully, she had a tube running from a machine on the wall into her esophagus, some sort of feeding tube. And she had a small device, similar to that used by The Mute.

"You're Sean Walcott. I saw you on the news." Her voice was slightly higher, but still cold and mechanical. "You're a Wendigo, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I'm Loralee Rohr. The way you look at me. You've seen someone like me before, haven't you?"

"Yes. No. He _was_ an Astomi, but he murdered my family and nearly killed me, so unless you're a hunter or a murderess you're probably nothing alike beyond race"

"The Mute?"

Deaton put a hand on Sean's shoulder, but he didn't react either way.

"That's what we called him. Except I call him 'the Bastard'."

"He's dead?"

"Yes. I personally saw him torn to pieces by a Werewolf."

"Good riddance. A _hunter_ of all things. And they put _me_ in here."

Sean didn't think it polite to ask why she was here.

"So, I take it Astomi possess enhanced senses of smell and hearing?"

"And vision." Loralee replied, "We can see in the dark and make out fine details at greater distances."

Sean had no idea why he wasn't freaking out at that mouthless face, that mechanical voice. But he just knew that you couldn't judge someone on the actions of someone who vaguely resembled them.

"Do you have superhuman strength?"

"We're on even footing, or pawing, with Werewolves. A well-trained, adult Astomi could easily overpower a Wendigo."

 _No wonder The Mute was able to overpower all three of them, even David._ He thought morosely, _He had the advantage of surprise and strength._

"I kind of figured that, seeing as how he fought off my parents and brother and killed them."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She sounded sincere, but she was a patient in a mental institution.

"Thank you."

...

Sean saw a number of odd creatures, a man with glowing white eyes, almost like a Wendigo's, a Kanima, a man with three eyes...

Patrick was pacing in his cell, he was no longer wearing a straitjacket, just hospital clothes. He turned and smiled when he saw Sean.

"You came!"

"I try to keep my word whenever I can." Sean replied, "Are they treating you well?"

"Yes. With Brunski dead, (he was delicious, by the way), the remaining staff are much more _accommodating_."

"I'm glad. I hate that you have to be here."

"I doubtless hate it more than you. The food is so bland, there's rarely anything to spice it up. Like fear."

"I prefer curry."

"I suppose I've always had a sensitive palate. Have you heard about Meredith, or should I call her Willow now?"

"Yes. I did. I heard she'd lost almost all sense of self. That she just sits there, staring at the walls."

"True." He looked at the boy oddly, "You don't sound too happy."

"I honestly can't hate her. I know what it's like to be out of control, and she had someone else's mind calling the shots. If she had been acting under her own volition, I'd want to rip her apart, slowly. But she's so insane she probably had no idea what she was doing, that there were consequences."

"You're too forgiving."

"I haven't forgiven The Mute. Even in death."

"Nor have I." Patrick's voice had a far less jovial quality to it, "He murdered three innocent Wendigo, and tried to kill you. I'd leave him for the maggots."

"That's what we did." Sean smiled darkly.

"You're alive, and he's worm food. So you won."

"Have I? I'm the one left behind to suffer."

"You're the one left behind to live your life. You're the one left behind so that they won't be forgotten. You're a testament to his failure and you can carry on your family name with pride."

Sean smiled sadly, "Yeah. I guess it's up to me now, isn't it? The last of the Walcott's."

...

"How's Garrett?" Sean asked Deaton.

"He's severely androphobic. He wont let any of the male staff or patients near him, and panics at the sight of a male. You could call it a kind of homophobia in the very _literal_ sense, he doesn't actually _hate_ gay men, he's _terrified_ of being raped by another male, to the point where he can't even function around other males."

"If he wasn't a cold-blooded murderer and a hunter I might actually pity him."

"They took Violet to prison. She's considered too dangerous to others to be put in Juvenile Detention."

"I know. She never asked about Garrett once." Sean shook his head, "I wonder what made them like that."

"Who knows. They could have had terrible childhoods, they could just be greedy, evil kids who care about anyone else but themselves."

"A lot of kids grow up in terrible situations and are good, decent people. I know everyone handles trauma and suffering differently, but it's not really an excuse for evil."

"They may have been raised by hunters, to be hunters. This could be all they know of life."

"In that case, I put most of the blame on their teachers, but they still had free will, a choice. And most hunters do so to protect the public from dangerous creatures, not to make money. They're guilty all the same."

Deaton's phone rang before he could respond.

"Hello, Scott?" He turned to Sean, "It's for you."

Sean took the phone, "Scott?"

"I have bad news, Sean. My _dad_ is home. And he doesn't know about our kind."

"Your dad's an FBI agent, isn't he?" Sean had never met Agent McCall, but he'd heard a few stories. Mostly unpleasant ones, so he hadn't asked much. The man might not know about the supernatural, but he knew something was going on with his son and his friends, and was trying hard to find out just what it was. And, like most authority figures, he apparently tended to get in the way of The Pack's business.

"Yeah. He's staying on the couch, he and mom don't get along to well. He wants to meet you."

"Will that be alright? I mean," He thought it would sound too odd to ask if he should sleep with Scott, even though they'd been in a Puppy Pile the night before. "I can share your bed, if you want, or you could share mine..."

Scott paused for a moment, "That's not a pickup line, is it?"

"No, but it would be a pretty poor one anyway. You, me and Liam were wrapped around each other last night..."

"His back gives him trouble sometimes. He's more comfortable on the couch. Besides, mom wants him where she can see him."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, just don't let him trick you into saying something about us. He's smart, and good at reading people. Even Derek."

"I was just visiting a cannibal serial killer in Eichen House, that's bound to raise some questions... He might buy 'old family friend', but you never know."

"That's what we already told him. Your family knew him before he went crazy and started killing people."

"Scott," He hesitated, "I saw an Astomi woman at Eichen House."

"A what?"

"A supernatural being with no mouth. The Mute was Astomi. I'd never heard of them before Deacon called me."

"Oh, man."

"It's alright, I can't blame anyone but The Mute and The Benefactor for what happened. I can't blame an entire race of people for one monster did to me. We spoke, apparently the Astomi don't like The Mute either. A hunter and a murderer, a supernatural hunting others like that. He's just a traitor to everyone."

"If dad asks, and he probably will, he was just deformed."

"You know I'm a terrible liar."

"Mom and I will try to distract him if he gets suspicious."

"I could regale him with my rendition of _Memory_ from _Cats_."

"You sing?"

"I also play the guitar."

"Cool. Though I think that it would be less distracting and more suspicious if you suddenly burst into song."

Sean suddenly burst into song with a strong, sad and beautiful voice.

Deaton turned to Sean as he began to sing into the phone.

Sean's voice was clear and strong, but haunting. At certain points, such as the line ' _I must look to the new life, and I mustn't give in_ ', traces of pain and heartache were undeniably present. But he sang on.

Once Sean finished the song, Scott was silent on the phone, as was Deaton.

"Wow." Scott said finally. "That was amazing."

Deaton was amazed. Sean had managed to take a woman's song of aging, regret and loneliness and turn it into an angst-ridden song of loss, regret and grief. His voice was slightly deeper when he sang, and filled with emotion. "That was incredible. And you sang it from memory?"

Sean blushed under all the attention. He shrugged, "Thanks. Some things you remember better than others."

"Have you ever considered trying out for drama class?"

"I'm too busy practicing gymnastics and saving the world and everything." He smiled, "A Wendigo's work is never done."

...

To be continued...

Notes-

Astomi were a mythical race said by Greco-Roman historians to live in India. They were hairy (unlike on Teen Wolf) humanoids with no mouth who lived off of pleasant scents. Bad scents could kill them, though I'm not exactly which scents were lethal. The Mute was shown ingesting something through a tube in his neck, so I assume that's how they eat in TW. Or they might need more than scents due to modern air pollution.

I don't remember seeing her, but one of the wikis said there was an Astomi in Eichen House. The name Loralee Rohr comes from The Deadpool, and she wasn't shown or identified, so I used the name for this character. Her bounty was $250,000.

The three-eyed man is Dr. Valack.

Homophobia is an odd word to me, it implies pathological _fear_ of homosexuals, but it's usually used to describe _hatred_ of homosexuals. Not everyone who hates gays is afraid of them, and not everyone who is afraid of them hates them. A phobia is an irrational fear of something brought on by trauma or a medical condition, not an act of prejudice.

 _Memory_ and _Cats_ were written by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Sean and Grizzabella are singing about different memories, of course. I had to remove the lyrics from the story, as I've recently heard of other writer's works being deleted without warning for containing songs from the real world. I assume it's a matter of copyright infringement, but I don't want to take any chances of losing my work. It hurts the flow of the chapter, the emotional impact, but it's better than having it taken away entirely.

Glenn McCuen is a singer, but as far as I know it's not in the realm of musical theater.


	31. Chapter 31

Survival

Chapter 31

Agent McCall

...

Agent Rafael McCall and his ex-wife Melissa watched from the window as Sean exited Alan Deaton's car.

"He's shorter than I expected." Agent Mccall remarked.

"He's probably taller than you where it counts, Rafe." Melissa said bitterly.

"I didn't take you for a cougar, Melissa."

"No, you just took me for a fool."

"I'm not the same-"

Sean opened the door and walked into the McCall house before he could finish.

"Sean, I want you to meet my ex-husband, Agent McCall. This is Sean Walcott."

"I have a first name, Melissa." He sighed, "It's nice to meet you, Sean." He held out his hand and Sean shook it. McCall was impressed by the boy's firm grip, but, then again, a gymnast without a firm grip is like a soccer player with no legs. "I was sorry to hear about your family. And your own injuries."

"Thank you, Mr. McCall." Sean said evenly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too." Sean noted the way the man was sizing him up, trying to figure him out, like any good investigator.

"I trust Melissa is taking good care of you?"

"If it hadn't been for Mrs. McCall and Scott letting me hide here, I'd be dead by now. She's been nothing but kind to me, even during my night terrors and panic attacks. She's a good woman."

"Yes, she is."

The trio went into the living room, and Agent McCall took the couch he was using as a bed while Sean sat cross-legged on the floor as Willow ran up to greet him. He picked her up and held her close, stroking her fur.

"I'll fix you two something to drink." Mrs. McCall went into the kitchen.

"I'd like to apologize in advance for any night terrors. If you hear me screaming in the middle of night, it's probably a night terror."

 _"Probably?"_

"I've come to realize that nowhere is truly safe. But Scott's just next door and Mrs. McCall carries a handgun, so I wouldn't worry too much."

"How did you meet Scott in the first place?"

"I met him at the hospital. Mrs. McCall introduced us." (that was true, depending upon your interpretation of the word 'introduced', Scott had caught him trying to eat her) "He was there to see about a teammate who'd been injured in a training session for the lacrosse team."

"Liam Dunbar. I know."

"I was in shock. My family had been murdered, I was weak from loss of blood and I knew that monster was coming after me. Scott offered to help me." He shrugged, "You know what happened next. The Mute came, and he killed me. In a way. I woke up in the morgue, and I was terrified."

"Anyone would be."

"I stole some clothes and found Scott and Stiles, who took me in." He didn't tell him that he'd found their house by following Scott's scent.

" _Stiles_." There was a bit of weariness in the man's voice, apparently he knew Stiles Stilinski, and didn't particularly like him.

"Then Mrs. McCall offered to take me in. She knew The Mute was still after me, but she offered to hide me anyway."

"Then, somehow, you ended up saving Liam Dunbar's life when he was pushed down a well by two psychotic teenage murderers."

"Garrett and Violet. Scott, Derek, Stiles and I helped, it was a team effort. If not for Scott, we'd never have found Garrett and Violet, much less Liam."

"Still, you helped." He looked into his green eyes, "What did you think when Mr. Petrakis turned up dead?"

"Who?" Sean asked. He didn't know anyone named 'Petrakis'.

"Albert Petrakis. _The Mute_."

Sean's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Surprised he had a name?"

"Yeah, actually. He was like a living nightmare, a monster. You'd expect something so evil and twisted to be nameless, something that crawled out of a dark hole... Something so inhuman as to be unnameable."

"That's actually fairly common. Giving someone we view as a monster a name humanizes them, we want to see them as total monsters, not people. Fortunately for you, he was both human and mortal. How did you feel when you learned he was dead."

"Angry. Sad. Frustrated." Sean nuzzled Willow, "I wanted to personally take one of his own tomahawks and shove it up his-"

Mrs. McCall walked in with drinks, hot tea for her ex, lemonade for Sean.

"I just don't want to think about him anymore. I want his name to be forgotten. I want him to cease to exist in any form. I want him to have never been born."

McCall smiled at the reference to what Sean wanted to do with Petrakis' tomahawk, but the remarks confused him.

"Then why were you _sad_?"

"Because I never got an answer from him. I wanted to know _why_ he murdered my family. I wanted to know who hired him. And then I wanted to kill him myself." There was a darkness in those green eyes now. "Maybe I couldn't have gone through with it, given the chance, but I'll never know. I'll never get the chance to confront him face to face, to yell and scream and curse at him and tell him how he destroyed my life and slaughtered three innocent people for the sake of little slips of paper..." He was breathing deeply, Melissa had warned Rafe about the signs of a coming panic attack.

"I see." He said softly, "I can't say I understand, because I'd be lying. I've never suffered like that. I just want to get to the bottom of this and hopefully put an end to all this killing."

"Only direct Divine Intervention would keep people from killing each other." Sean's tone was cynical, but accurate. Agent McCall wasn't a religious man, but he wasn't a humanist either.

"Do you think it strange," He asked gently, "That Mr... The Mute was mauled to death by a wild animal?"

"Unfortunately there are a lot of animal attacks in Beacon Hills, most of them fatal."

"And a lot of them centered around Beacon Hills High, it's students and staff." Agent McCall added.

"I was homeschooled until _he_ came and took everything from me. I've only been at Beacon Hills High for a few weeks now, but I remember hearing about several students and teachers being murdered a while back. Not to mention that Garrett and Violet turned out to be assassins for the woman who had my family killed. And Aiden Carver getting stabbed to death."

"Yes, that was what first brought me down, all the murders at the school and the hospital. None of it makes sense, it almost seemed as if it were somehow... _Supernatural._ Who kills a dozen people in a hospital with Japanese katanas, and two more at the high school with the same weapons?"

"Someone truly evil."

"Did you know Aiden Carver?"

"No, I saw it on the news. I felt bad for his brother, it must be horrible to lose a twin. Losing David, my brother, is almost too much to bear, but losing a twin must be like losing a part of yourself."

"I can't imagine that either." Rafe said honestly. He shook his head, "Have you noticed anything... _Odd_ or unnatural in Beacon Hills?"

"You mean besides that fact that my mother, father and brother were slaughtered by a lunatic with no mouth wielding a tomahawk, then being murdered and waking up in the morgue?"

"Point taken." He may have overstepped a boundary there. The boy was in a fragile state and a lot of pain, but he needed to know what was going on, especially with Scott. He'd have to be gentle, the boy was traumatized.

"May I ask why you just returned from a visit with Patrick Clark, a cannibalistic serial killer, in Eichen House? I know you pretty much captured him yourself, talking him down and convincing him to surrender to the police, so you must know each other from somewhere."

"Patrick was a family friend. Of course, we didn't know he was murdering people until he was captured. When I saw his name on The Deadpool, I asked a friend, Lydia Martin, who was going to warn _Meredith Walker,"_ He laughed at the cruel irony, "The 'Benefactor' herself, thinking she was her friend... I asked her to warn Patrick for me, but not to tell him I was still alive. I couldn't let _anyone_ know. They told me he was upset about my family and I, so when he escaped I thought he might listen to me. He did, thankfully, and no one got hurt. I promised I'd visit him, so I went to see him."

McCall found that extremely odd, but some serial killers could form bonds with other people, or even have families they cared about. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Clark had bonded with the Walcott's and genuinely cared about them. And they about him, apparently.

"I see. How did you know about The Deadpool?"

"Lydia Martin. She's a genius. She was able to find the list on The Mute's keyboard speech computer thing. Stiles and I were able to figure out the number system of _bounties_." He practically spat out the last word, "When I found out that monster actually got _paid_ to murder my family, I almost had a breakdown, but Derek was able to calm me down."

"Derek? _Derek Hale?_ "

"Yes. He's helped me a lot. He caught Violet, helped save Liam and backed me up with Patrick, he's helped me through several panic attacks. He's a good guy."

There was almost no way this kid wasn't in some way involved in whatever was going on in Beacon Hills. He lived with Scott, was friends with Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale and the others... But he wasn't as closed and guarded as the other kids. He read Sean as naive, a homeschooled kid with little social interaction suddenly thrust alone into the cold, cruel world. He should be easy to get information from.

"What do you and Scott and the others do together?"

Sean shrugged, "We hang out. I have other friends, though."

"Do you know anything about that 'pyrotechnics show' that went wrong the other day?"

"Yeah. That wasn't so much a pyrotechnics show as a pair of lunatics trying to draw on occult forces."

Agent McCall immediately snapped to attention. That wasn't the story he'd gotten from the Sheriff. Sean's eyes betrayed him, he realized that he's said something that the others didn't want him to know. He must not have been told the cover story. To his credit, he recovered quickly.

Sean knew he'd screwed up, but since he'd already told him part of what had happened, he might as well tell him everything that was not incriminating in any way. "This idiot was trying to summon and control some kind of supernatural forces, he thought they would make him a god. You remember a few years ago those two little girls tried to stab their friend to death as a sacrifice to 'The Slender Man'? Well, that's what he was trying to summon. _An internet meme._ A lot of people, myself included, found out and went to stop him and his pet serial killer."

Agent McCall remembered the 'Slender Man Stabbing' case well, it had made international headlines, and the victim's survival had been almost as miraculous as Sean 'rising from the dead'. "How do you know what he was trying to do?"

"Because he yelled _'Get ready to meet your new god'_ right before the machines blew."

"No, I mean, before you got there. How did you know something was going on?"

Sean considered the question, it was hard to explain, even without the supernatural element. "Well, after the murders, we, me, Scott and the others, decided to try to find out what was going on. We were trying to catch the killer-"

"That's dangerous. You kids shouldn't be risking your lives like that, that's the job of the police."

"I know. I really didn't want to get involved, but someone started stalking us, and they even left us notes with things like _'He Waits'_ written on them. Trust me, I'm a coward, I didn't want anything to do with this, but that guy just wouldn't leave us alone." Rafe could tell that he was being totally sincere about that.

"Do you have any idea why the police wouldn't mention this to me?"

"No. I've heard that local and federal law enforcement don't always get along. And they probably didn't want to add more publicity to the case. Those five kids had families, and I know first hand what it's like to have to face the press while dealing with terrible grief. "

"What about the police? During this 'ritual', I mean, what did they do?"

"They came too, but they didn't want to shoot him, I mean, it's not like he would have succeeded, so basically he was just an unarmed idiot playing with a lot of radio equipment in the middle of the woods. And it blew up on him."

"Why didn't they just rush him?"

"The equipment was giving off too much electricity to get near, I suppose."

"And then it blew?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what happened to the body?"

"No. I don't even know for sure that he's dead. In all the smoke and everything he just vanished. The police sent us away after that. I think he's dead, he was an old man, in his seventies at least, if the explosion didn't kill him right away he probably died shortly after. I honestly don't know what happened to him."

Rafe turned to his ex-wife, "Did Mr. Altman, or his body, ever arrive at the hospital?"

"No, they haven't found him yet." It was clear Melissa was disturbed, and not with him, for once. It was clear this was not what she had expected Sean to say.

Something was definitely fishy here.

"A guy tried to murder a girl right in front of everyone, but she snapped his neck. I don't know who she was, so I can't help you there." Sean continued, "I heard the guy was a serial killer called the 'Break-Neck Killer', and that he killed those college kids out looking for Werewolves in the woods. So I suppose it was ironic justice."

"Did you have any other friends before you lost your family?"

"Well, Donovan Donati. And the kids from the gymnastics center. And coach Dinashev, he's training me. Patrick, in a way. And, of course, Her Majesty Queen Willow, Supreme Feline Overlord of Beacon Hills."

Willow purred contentedly.

"She helped save my life, she's the reason I was outside when The Mute attacked, and her bloody pawprints and the blood on her fur warned me that something was terribly wrong..." He smiled sadly, "You really should submit to the Feline Masters. They ask so little of us."

 _Either this kid's crazy or he has a bizarre sense of humor. Most likely both._

"Do you believe in supernatural beings?"

Sean looked at him oddly, "I'm a Christian, so I believe in God, The Devil, Angels and Demons..."

"I mean like Werewolves or Vampires."

"I don't believe in undead, like Vampires. I suppose that's funny, since I was technically dead for a few hours, then woke up. But there may be things like Bigfoot or Dog Men out there. Dad was a firm believer in Nessie, and I'm not closed-minded or stupid enough to think scientists have discovered every living thing on earth."

 _Answering questions without really answering them. He's definitely hiding something. But he's given me far more information than Stilinski and his officers._

"And, of course, there's no way Stiles Stilinski is an 'ordinary' human being." Sean continued, "Have you met that kid? I suppose you have, haven't you?"

"Yes, I know him." _And I can't stand him._

"Hey, how's everybody doing?"

 _Oh God no. Speak of The Devil._

Stiles Stilinski walked into the living room alongside Scott McCall, and looked at Sean seated in his usual position, on the floor. "Dude, they own furniture for a reason, you know."

Willow hissed at Stiles, and Agent McCall found himself suddenly liking the cat.

"I like the floor."

Stiles eyed the agent with open contempt. "Hey, Rafe. What brings you back to the wife and kid you _abandoned_ years ago? More monster-hunting?"

"Shut up, Stilinski."

"Sean was just telling us about Feline Supremacy and our proper place as their slaves." Melissa broke into the conversation. "Willow agrees, no surprise there."

"No offence, but Willow kind of scares me. She's definitely smarter than any cat I've seen before, and it's like she's plotting something." Everyone in the room could have sworn that Willow glared at Stiles.

Rafael McCall was really beginning to like Willow. Maybe he should get an anti-Stiles feline of his own...

...

The Walcott House,

The Pack decided to temporarily move their meetings to Sean's home, for obvious reasons.

"So he knows about everything?"

"He just knows that Altman was trying to summon The Slender Man and that the emitter... _Thing_ blew up. It was just another deluded attempt to contact a fictional character, like with those girls." Derek responded, "My question is, why didn't anyone tell Sean the cover story?"

"He was gone all day. He was at Liam's, then he went to Eichen House and talked to Patrick and Loralee, then he came straight home. I called him on Deaton's phone to warn him about dad, but I didn't mention it."

"Who's Loralee?" Liam asked.

"That Astomi woman at Eichen House."

"Astomi?"

"People without mouths, supernaturals, like _him_." Sean answered, "Of course, she's no more like him than you are like Deucalion or Kali." He turned to Stiles, "I'm so sorry, I hope I didn't get your dad into any trouble."

"Don't worry about it. Rafe's been leaning on us all. And he's not exactly high level." Stiles said. "I mean, seriously, he's an FBI agent, he should be able to do better than his ex-wife's couch."

"Do you think your dad could have followed one of us here?" Malia asked.

"Maybe. Probably. He can't exactly walk through Sean's front door without permission, can he?" Scott replied.

"I hope not. My food supply would get me sent to Eichen, or worse. Even though they were all already dead, desecration of a corpse is a serious crime." Sean answered.

"Yeah, that would be a bit difficult to explain." Liam lay back into the couch. "So, what do we do?"

"The damage is done with the Altman case, even if dad doesn't know that The Slender Man is real and actually appeared. Just don't say anything else about The Pack, the supernatural, anything that could lead him to finding out the truth."

"What if he has some kind of evidence? Gerard Argent saw him too, and he called the police. The coroner probably noted that girl's body had been eaten while I was in the morgue before the Sheriff could cover it up. If he can find that entry..."

"He'll be suspicious, but what's he gonna' do, accuse you of being a cannibal with several rows of shark-like teeth? They'd laugh him out of the FBI. Besides, Danny had that data purged and dad covered it up, even if he does find it the coroner will just say it was a clerical error or something." Stiles assured him, "And Gerard hates the authorities, I doubt he filed an actual complaint."

"I'm not like you, Stiles. I'm not the guy who mouths off to everybody, or a good liar. I'd fold in an interrogation."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Sean. You said a Wendigo would endure torture rather than betray his kind, his family. You're one of us now. You're family." Scott said gently, "We all get scared, and we all hurt because we have to hide who and what we are, but you've been a Wendigo all your life, you know how to keep your mouth shut. Besides, my dad has no reason to interrogate you. Stiles tells him off, even insults him, and he can't do anything about it."

"Did he say how long he was staying?" Lydia asked.

"At our house, for as short a time as possible. In Beacon Hills, he didn't say."

"After a while the Feds will probably get tired of paying for him to run around chasing Werewolves and send him somewhere else. The government has even less of a sense of humor than it has intelligent officials. Have you ever watched C-Span? Pretty much all of the government is like Congress, bickering, partisan idiots who hate each other and would rather insult each other than do anything helpful or productive."

"The FBI isn't Congress or The Senate, or even The White House. _The Federal Bureau of Investigations_. They have to have some sense to catch spies and terrorists and things like that."

"True, but that makes it even better. Common sense says Werewolves, Wendigo and such don't exist. How long do you think they'll continue to waste time searching for them in Nowhere, California?" Stiles reasoned.

"Publicity. Between the Darach, The M-... The guy that killed Sean's family, Sean himself and The Benefactor, Beacon Hills has become a magnet for hearse-chasing reporters." Brett leaned forward, "And now, with those college kids, that Scientist, The Break-Necker and The Slender Man, they'll be watching for the next big, mysterious tragedy to boost their ratings. And the government loves for people to think they're actually protecting them by putting out agents and officers to investigate."

"Stiles, you know," Sean looked at Stiles, "Technically, your father is a government official."

"And how many of these murders and supernatural disasters have the police actually solved or stopped? Besides capturing Meredith Walker and Mouthless, who got killed a few minutes later, it's been all us."

Sean shook his head sadly, "You have no idea how lucky you are to have a father. You should show him more respect."

"I lost my mother when I was eight, I watched her die. I _know_ I'm lucky to have my dad, and I know I'm rude to him, a lot. But I really do love him, it's just that ever since mom died we've been distant. It's hard closing that gap, but we're trying. I resented him for a long time, for not being there with us when she died, and it's hard to let go, even when you want to. I'm not saying he's an idiot or incompetent or something, just that the police aren't set up to handle things like this. We are."

Sean nodded silently. He'd never been estranged from a family member, especially a parent, it would be a long, slow healing process for both Stiles and his father.

After a little more discussion Sean noticed it was time for him to go, he had gymnastics practice in an hour, and needed the extra time to limber up and stretch, not to mention getting there. "I have to go to practice. Brett, could you take Liam home?"

"Sure. I'll take the runt home."

"There he goes," Liam smiled wickedly, "Talking about his tiny weiner again."

Brett feigned a shocked look, "Baby Wolf just said _'weiner'_! I say we spank him, or at least wash his mouth out with soap."

"Pervert!" Liam grumbled.

"I think everyone who's ever met Liam has wanted to spank him..." Stiles added.

"Sean, can I come with you?"

Sean looked at Liam, "Sure. Have you ever watched gymnastics before?"

"Not really. I usually turn to something else when it's on The Olympics."

Sean gave a look of fake hurt, "Nobody appreciates gymnastics."

Sean turned and handed Derek the keys to his house, "When you guys finish, just lock up." He paused for a moment, "Maybe I should get some of you guy's keys made, in case I'm not here. Or maybe mom or dad's keys." David's house keys hung from his keyring along with the keys to his car, Sean kept his keys separate, so as not to lose them both if something happened.

Derek nodded yes as Sean rushed upstairs, changed into his blue and white gymnastics gear, and hurried off to the car, Liam in tow.

...

The place was even more awkward without Sean, the handsome, gentle face for the Wendigo family who had once lived and fed there. Who had been brutally murdered there. Who had dozens of corpses stored in a freezer not a hundred feet away.

They definitely did not feel like raiding the fridge.

"Sean hasn't seen Liam go IED yet, has he?" Brett asked.

"No, not yet." Scott replied, "But he knows about it, and he's stronger than Liam if something did happen."

"It's amazing how much Liam trusts him, after everything."

"Well, they both have monsters inside them they have to struggle to control, Sean has hunger and LIam has anger. And he has helped Liam several times since then. He feels responsible for him, protective, and Liam can feel that. They know they can trust each other."

...

To be continued...

Notes

The story about the young girls is, sadly, true. Two delusional 12 year-old girls did try to sacrifice a third girl the same age to The Slender Man in May of 2014. They stabbed the girl 19 times, but fortunately she survived. They genuinely believed that The Slender Man was real and wanted to please/appease him. They were both arrested, but as of right now, (December, 2015) they have yet to go to trial.

That's a good example of the dangers of not being able to separate fantasy from reality.

You might say I have a low opinion of politics in general.

Why does Sean never call Melissa 'Dr.' McCall? Because they're at home, in an informal setting. If he were in the hospital, he'd call her Dr. McCall.

I call him 'Break Neck Killer' instead of 'Neck-Breaker' on purpose. It is a term used often, like 'break-neck speed'.

Humanists believe that human beings are naturally good, that human needs and desires are of primary importance and that humanity is capable of dealing with their own affairs in a logical and rational manner, without a need for any gods or the supernatural. That's an _extremely_ simplified definition of the philosophy of humanism.

And no, I am not a humanist. I believe that the whole of human history is evidence against the entire concept.

I am not a feline supremacist, either. My family has always had dogs.

I do believe in Bigfoot/Sasquatch.


	32. Chapter 32

Survival

Chapter 32

More Questions than Answers

...

John Stilinski silently cursed. He couldn't blame Sean, he'd not been told what to say, but this made things far more difficult.

"Like I said, Simon Altman was insane. He murdered several other scientists who mocked his work and went into hiding here for almost thirty years. He was obsessed with this 'Slender Man'."

"Then he must have kept a great deal of notes, research."

"We believe he did, but we didn't find anything at either the Henley place, Altman's home or his junkyard. Searching a junkyard is difficult and we only believed we had a missing person on our hands. We weren't looking for papers or documents in the first search, and the new owner threw out most of the stuff he couldn't sell. When we got to the Henley house he seemed to have packed his things in a hurry and left. He left a lot of books behind, but none of them were his own writings. Since we have no body and no indication of whether Simon Altman is dead or alive, it's quite possible he stashed them away somewhere, or took them with him and fled Beacon Hills."

"Then, why did you tell me Altman was killed in the explosion?"

"Because it seems the most likely scenario, the equipment he was using had enough juice to reduce a tree to ashes. One little old man wouldn't be that difficult. I did have men search the area, but they turned up no trace of him. So the most logical conclusion is that he was incinerated."

"Sean said that he and Lydia Martin were being stalked. Do you know by whom?"

"Probably 'The Break-Neck Killer', he liked to toy with his prey." There was obvious disgust in John's voice, "As if Sean hasn't suffered enough already."

"Did you find out the identity of the woman who killed the killer?"

"No, she vanished in the chaos. I think she was some sort of cultist, she called herself ' _His Right Hand_ '."

" _His_ "?

"Who knows, with all of these Neo-Pagan and Wiccan groups, not to mention Satanists. She might have been referring to Cernunnos or Odin or some other deity."

"Or The Slender Man."

"Slender Man is just a legend, born on someone's computer, it doesn't exist."

"A lot of people I've spoken to around here say it's been seen around Beacon Hills lately. There's even a rumor that it visited Gerard Argent."

"Gerard Argent is an insane, senile old man. He's also one of the most evil human beings I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. He's bedridden and probably, _hopefully_ , dying. One of his employees called that in. I sent a deputy to investigate, and he wouldn't even see her. He had two men in the room with him, and neither saw anything. The old fool actually had his men shoot up the wall because 'The Slender Man' was standing there."

Rafael could see that happening, a dying old man leading a mafia style family starts seeing monsters in his room, but that wasn't the only thing.

"I don't believe in coincidences. Sean Walcott, and you yourself, said that Simon Altman was trying to summon The Slender Man, Gerard Argent, or his people, say that he saw The Slender Man, and several other people around town claimed to have seen him as well."

"That's like with flying saucers, Agent McCall, one person reports seeing one, suddenly everyone is seeing them. Mass hysteria. The power of suggestion. I won't insult you by saying someone was playing a hoax, any hoaxer running around the woods in a Slender Man costume would get their tail shot off by hunters."

"True. This place is filled with hunters. The question is, _what_ exactly are they hunting?"

"In case you haven't noticed, we have a problem with wild animal attacks."

"Speaking of animal attacks, I wonder what The Mute was doing in the woods with no form of transportation when he was mauled to death by some 'animal' we haven't been able to identify."

"What are you implying?"

"From the evidence I've seen, the crime scene photos and the autopsy report, I believe that Petrakis was killed elsewhere, and dumped where he was found. Only one kind of animal I know of does that."

"He was a mass murderer who nearly killed an innocent boy after slaughtering his parents and brother. He also murdered a deputy. If he was murdered, I'd like to shake the guy's hand."

"That's hardly professional."

"It's called being human. You should try it sometimes instead of chasing my son and yours around treating them like criminals."

"I think I'm done here, for now." As Agent McCall turned to go, he called over his shoulder, "Oh, Sheriff, one more thing. Why would an axe-murderer break a man's neck and rip his intestines out? Are you _certain_ The Mute killed Officer Johnson?"

He didn't wait for a reply, but walked out of the office.

...

Liam was amazed by the moves Sean and the other gymnasts were able to pull off. If he could make some of those moves he'd be a real force to be reckoned with.

Sean was currently upside down, with his hands on rings hanging from the ceiling, meaning that he was basically doing a headstand in mid air with only two rings on ropes to support him. He was perfectly straight and still. How anyone could maintain that kind of balance was beyond Liam's sport's training, After about a minute Sean's legs suddenly swung forward, his entire body flipped as he swung himself out of the rings and somersaulted in midair onto a thick mat below, landing on his feet.

"Are you sure you're not a Were-Cat?"

Sean walked over and sat by Liam, "I'm pretty sure. I don't _always_ land on my feet."

"That has to take a lot of upper body strength. I never thought of gymnasts as weight lifters."

"Lifting weights and keeping in good shape is key to gymnastics. You have to be physically strong to do this kind of thing."

"I wonder how many gymnasts are secretly supernaturals?"

"Apparently most supernaturals are into lacrosse." Sean smiled, "Let's see, there's you, Brett, Scott, Malia, Jackson, Isaac..."

"Yeah, it is funny. So, are you trying for The Olympics?"

"Woah, that takes some doing. I don't know if I could, anyway, with The Hunger. I'd probably end up in Russia or somewhere having to buy a body from the mob to eat before I got back, and the Russian Mafia is not friendly. Being a Wendigo sucks."

"It's amazing you guys can survive at all, considering what you have to eat. You can't just buy that at a grocery store or something."

"A lot of people die every day, especially in big cities. Bodies get lost. And you'd be surprised how many medical examiners, coroners and funeral home workers are Wendigo." Sean said quietly, "In Beacon Hills, people die almost constantly. Of course, some of us, like Patrick, don't wait, they hunt."

"What about Donovan?"

"We don't pry into each other's feeding habits. If he needed food, I'd help him best I could, but he has a source, somewhere."

A teenage girl with curly brown hair wearing a blue and pink unitard approached the pair, "Hey Sean, who's your cute friend?"

Sean looked at Liam, "Oh, this is Jail-Bait."

Liam mock pouted, "Liam Dunbar."

"All fifteen years of him." Sean slapped him on the back playfully.

'I'm not exactly an old lady, Sean."

"I never said you were. Liam this is Kathy Whelk."

"Nice to meet you."

"Liam Dunbar? The lacrosse champ? I never expected to see you at a gymnastics session."

"I just came with Sean so I wouldn't have to be around the other jerks I hang out with for some reason."

Kathy laughed, "What do you think?"

"I think I really shouldn't skip the gymnastics competitions he next time I'm watching The Olympics on TV. You guys are incredible."

"Thank you. I've seen you play, you're pretty incredible yourself."

Liam blushed.

"Aww, look, he's blushing!" Sean pinched a rosy cheek.

"Am not!" Liam slapped his hand away, blushing harder.

...

Eichen House,

"As I said, you won't be able to get any information. There's no point in disturbing her. Her mind is gone." The doctor folded his hands, "Miss. Walker is almost totally unresponsive. Besides, her psychiatric records were already provided to the police and the Federal Bureau of Investigations."

"I know." Agent McCall sighed, "I just thought if I could talk to her in person I might learn something more. But, as you said, if she's basically comatose, it's a wasted effort." He thought for a moment, "What about Patrick Clark? He escaped at the same time as Meredith Walker while she was The Benefactor, and he's... Involved with certain other people I'm looking at at the moment."

The doctor raised a brow, thus far only two people had visited Patrick Clark since his recapture, Dr. Alan Deaton and young Sean Walcott. Dr. Deaton was a well-respected, if slightly eccentric, veterinarian, and Sean Walcott was a well-loved young man who had suffered and survived severe mental and physical traumas, including the brutal murders of his entire family. He'd also helped recapture Patrick. There may have been a connection there, but nothing sinister, surely?

"We'll bring Mr. Clark into the visitor's room, but it's doubtful you'll learn anything of use. He believes that we 'humans' are just cattle to be slaughtered and eaten."

"'We humans'? What does he say he is?"

"He's never stated what kind of creature he believes himself to be, he has only stated that they are predators and we humans are prey."

"That's odd. Sean told me that he was an old family friend."

"Sean Walcott? That _is_ strange, isn't it? Patrick was very upset, angered, even, when he learned of the Walcott killings, and Sean was able to convince him to surrender peacefully after his escape, so obviously he does not view the Walcott family as cattle like the rest of us. Perhaps he believes they are of the same 'race'?"

"Sean said that shortly before the escape Patrick was visited at his request by Lydia Martin and Kira Yukimura, to warn him that his name was on The Deadpool. I understand that Lydia Martin is a former patient-"

"I'm sorry, Agent McCall, but I cannot discuss matters regarding the care of any former or current patients without legal justification. Patrick Clark is a serial killer and you have the right as an FBI agent to question him. However, if you wish to see Miss. Martin's files, you will need a warrant."

"Of course, doctor. Is it appropriate to ask if she could have encountered Patrick Clark in the day to day routine of the hospital?"

The doctor looked unsure of that, "It's highly unlikely." He finally replied, "Patrick Clark is a maximum security patient, he rarely has the opportunity to interact with anyone outside of staff or visitors, and he has very few visitors. He eats alone and does not share in communal activities, given his proclivity toward cannibalism of young woman, a young lady such as Miss. Martin would never be allowed to interract with him without bars or bulletproof glass between them."

...

"Another visitor?" Patrick Clark was in a straightjacket, manacles, and a mouth guard to prevent him from biting the orderly. To Agent McCall it looked more ' _Silence of The Lambs_ ' than ' _X-Files_ '.

"I'm Agent Rafael McCall of the FBI, and I have a few questions for you."

The small, bug-eyed man was obviously surprised "McCall? As in Scott and Melissa McCall?"

Rafe's eyes narrowed, "How do you know about them?"

"They are the family who took Sean Walcott in after his family was butchered. If you are indeed related to them, your family stock is much better than that of most humans." It was clearly meant to be a compliment, of a sort.

"If you are not human, then what are you? What race are you? Is Sean like you?"

"Sean and I are nothing alike. He's too kind-hearted. As for me, I am the lion among gazelles, the wolf among sheep. I am a predator, born and bred. It is my birthright to hunt, to kill, to consume. You cannot possibly understand The Hunger, Agent McCall, only we can. We who are blessed and cursed with this ravenous Spirit of Famine. I must eat to survive, I _must_ have human flesh to survive. That's the only thing that will sate The Hunger."

"Does this race have a name?"

Patrick smiled, "Yes. But I'll never tell."

"Are you all predators, hunting humans for food?"

"No. There are those who deny our true nature, who live among the cattle and feed upon their dead like Ghouls, unwilling to hunt, they wait for their prey to simply die. They think us equals!" He laughed wildly.

"How did you know the Walcott family?"

"Christina was an old flame, her family and mine were friends. Even after I was captured, they would sometimes visit me, to cheer me up. They were good people, they didn't deserve to die like that."

"No, they didn't." Rafe agreed.

 _Walcott Funeral Home._

 _Spirit of Hunger._

 _Waiting for their prey to die._

 _Ghouls..._

Rafe didn't like the thoughts he was suddenly having. That gentle, soft spoken boy sitting on his ex-wife's living room floor, petting his beloved cat could not possibly be a Ghoul.

Then again, he suspected that his own son was no longer human...

Patrick had to be delusional.

But then, why had the Walcott's considered him a friend? Why had he, a delusional, sociopathic, egomaniacal cannibal serial killer cared so much for this ordinary little family? What made _them_ more than cattle?

" _Wendigo Psychosis_."

Patrick's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Spirit of Famine, Eternal Hunger. The Wendigo. I studied psychology and anthropology, Patrick, it isn't that difficult. I'm guessing the doctor's here don't recognize it as an official mental illness, or they don't want to tell me, for some reason. Though why you aren't screaming it to the rafters I don't know, unless you believe there are other Wendigo, and that you're protecting them."

For a moment Patrick could not reply, but the shock in his eyes was proof enough.

"You are a dangerously intelligent man, Mr. McCall. I am The Wendigo. What are you going to do about it? Stick me in a zoo for your herd to look at?"

"One would argue that you're already there." McCall said distractedly, "Werewolves, Wendigo, Lizard People, Demons and now Slender Man. I think this whole town is insane."

"Maybe it's not the rest of the world, maybe you're the one who is insane, Agent McCall."

"Said the man in the straightjacket."

He watched as Patrick was led away, quietly wondering how much of the madman's story had any credence to it.

...

To be continued...

Notes -

I'm not comparing Neo-Paganism and Wicca to Satanism, just listing non-traditional religions. I am unfamiliar with the beliefs of Odinists, but I know that they exist.

Cernunnos is The Lord of The Forest, The Horned God, an ancient Celtic deity revered by some modern groups. He is protector of the forest and master of the hunt as well as a fertility god. As I am not Wiccan and have little knowledge of such things, this is, again, probably an oversimplification.

I think there may be a 'black market' for corpses to keep Wendigo fed.


	33. Chapter 33

Survival

Chapter 33

The Truth is Out There

...

Several robed figures stood around the reinvigorated stump of The Nemeton, chanting in a language known only to them. One pulled out a small flask of teal liquid and poured it over the sacred tree, which glowed white in the darkness for a moment.

A small knot appeared in the center of the stump and began to grow, writhing and twisting upwards, dividing into twigs and branches, sprouting foliage. Soon The Nemeton was fully restored, even more vital and alive than it had been before its death.

...

Peter Hale simply walked into his nephew's apartment unannounced and uninvited. If Derek hadn't recognized the scent, he'd probably have attacked. He was still somewhat tempted, knowing it was Peter.

"Good morning, Derek. I thought you and your pack of cubs would like to know that The Nemeton has grown back. Completely. It's even stronger than before."

Derek scowled even more deeply, "I thought I felt something unusual. How can an ancient tree grow back in one day?"

Peter shrugged, "What can I say? It's Beacon Hills."

...

The Walcott House

Peter Hale wondered how anyone could stand it here, especially Sean. It would be like Derek rebuilding over the burnt ruins of the old Hale house. The smell of death always accompanied Wendigo, but this place reeked of it. Perhaps Sean's senses weren't as keen as his own.

"I don't understand. So, the tree's alive again, isn't that a good thing?" Liam asked, "The world needs more trees, right?"

"Not this kind of tree. You felt it's power, calling to you. We all did. Even The Slender Man felt it, and that was when it was _dead_. The Nemeton is a beacon for all things supernatural, and all things supernatural can sense it, feel its pull, even from far away. That's what brought the Walcotts here, and the Hales and all of us, Satomi and her pack, The Darach, it even helped with the summoning of the Nogitsune. It brings good, bad and neutral alike here. Lone wolves have already begun popping up, though none of them have caused us any trouble, yet."

"Why not bring them into the pack?"

"A wolf without a pack is either a survivor or an outcast, and you'd have to have one miserable excuse for an Alpha to cast out a wolf without good reason." Derek looked at Peter, "Usually betrayal or murder."

"Or they could be survivors, like me." Sean said, "With their lives and families destroyed, their packs dead or scattered."

"That's why we're not attacking them on sight." Scott said calmly, "If they are friendly or broken, we'll find out soon enough. And if they want to fight, they'll find out that we're prepared."

"Are we? We nearly got outfoxed, no offence, Kira, by a crazy old man and a serial killer, both of them human."

"We've fought, and defeated worse than a few stray Omegas." Scott replied confidently.

"I'm more worried about the humans. More of us means more possibilities for detection. And I'm not keen on angry mobs with torches and pitchforks. Wendigo are not well-tolerated by any other race, not even the Aswang. My family was murdered by an _Astomi_. Astomi are usually pacifists."

"That creature was a trained killer, a mercenary. Every race has its exceptions, and any culture can spawn a sociopath." Derek replied, "Look at the difference between Chris Argent and his father and sister. Kate Argent was a sadistic, perverted, soulless, demon-whore bitch and Gerard is a genocidal maniac. Deaton and Stiles are nothing like The Darach, though they are all emissaries and both Deaton and Jennifer were Druids."

"And, of course, I'm a sociopathic Werewolf murderer." Peter chimed in cheerfully, "While Scott is a wannabe-be Messiah who wouldn't even kill The Darach. You," He looked at Sean, "Couldn't bring yourself to kill the monster who murdered your family, while Patrick Clark preys on coeds. Of course, I dealt with both The Darach and the Astomi, which is one of the reasons I'm not pack. I do what has to be done. So did The Twins. But Scott won't kill, no matter how much the person deserves it. I'd have ripped Deucalion apart just like I did that mouthless freak." He looked at Scott and Derek, "But these two geniuses let him walk away. Hell, if they had any sense, they'd kill me." He paused thoughtfully, "Though you did kill me once Derek, I'll give you that."

Sean wondered for a moment if Peter actually _wanted_ to die. He was an odd one, cheerfully speaking about his murderous tendencies and past killings while at the same time helping The Pack, in his own bizarre way. "Peter." He said, "I never did thank you. For killing _him_. I know it goes against everything I was raised to believe, but I'm glad that monster is dead. I never thanked you for helping track down The Benefactor, either. Or any of the help you've given us. So... Well, _Thank you_."

He honestly hadn't expected that. "Don't thank me kid, please. It was my dream, my hateful thoughts that made Meredith Walker into The Benefactor. If I had died in that fire, your family and many other people would still be alive."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Without you The Darach may have won, without you Scott would never have become a Werewolf, and 'people' like Gerard Argent would have free reign over Beacon Hills. And you never acted on those thoughts. I don't think you're an evil man, Mr. Hale, you've made some mistakes and-"

"Some mistakes? I murdered my own niece in cold blood to become Alpha, I've killed more people than you know," He unsheathed his claws and held them up to the light, "With these very claws."

"You also stopped Kate Argent and saved Derek's life."

"That was family business. It was personal."

"Oh, that reminds me," Liam reached into his jacket and pulled out a shiny new cell phone, "We all chipped in and got you this." He smiled, "I hope you like it."

"Thank you, all of you!" Sean smiled.

"I'm glad you like it." Scott said, "We had a hard time picking one out. Never take seven people out shopping for a phone, especially if two of them happen to be female."

"So, what do we do about The Nemeton?"

"Nothing. It's a tree, it's not good or evil, just powerful." Scott replied, "And we may need it again in the future. We may have to seal something inside or use it's power to help us somehow..."

"Since it's on Hale land, I'll keep an eye on it." Peter added, "I don't want any more insane English Teachers/Darachs/Mass-murderers using it to gain incredible power."

"Remember, we don't kill, Peter."

"Remember, McCall, I'm not pack. I'm a lone wolf. I do what has to be done, what you can't." He smiled, "I highly doubt another Darach or lunatic theoretical physicist will show up, but who knows? I'll protect The Nemeton just like the rest of my property."

With that Peter Hale left the Walcott house, somewhat relieved to be away from that tragic scene. He wasn't usually the sentimental type, Hell, he'd murdered his own niece to become Alpha, something that still haunted him, even if he refused to admit it. But knowing his money had paid for the Walcott's deaths and Sean's suffering, and that his own dreams had inspired the murders, that shook him deeply. Not just the Walcott's, but all of the people who'd died because of The Deadpool, except, of course, The Mute.

He wondered which of them had a better spot reserved in Hell.

...

Rafael McCall was not surprised that no one was home, not even Wilow. Melissa was at work and Scott and Sean were probably hanging out with the others in that odd little group of theirs.

He sighed and sat down to review his notes. It was obvious Sheriff Stilinski was lying, he'd seen the tapes those kids had made, he'd seen Slender Man on them, it had been disturbing, the deaths, not The Slender Man, he'd seen worse on the SyFy Channel. It was obvious the faceless figure never moved toward any of the unfortunate victims as they were murdered.

He didn't kill them, but he didn't help them either. That made him an accessory to five murders.

 _Good luck bringing a faceless inhuman creature to trial, Rafe._

He had no idea what to do with the Sheriff, he'd been unsuccessful in having him removed or brought up on charges. His superiors seemed to be ignoring the case altogether, just feigning interest in his reports. He really understood how Agent Mulder felt on ' _The X-Files_ ', desperately scrambling for evidence of the paranormal as everyone around him tried to keep it hidden. Even actual evidence was either ignored or 'lost', there was no point sending the tapes to them, and he wasn't so heartless as to post these kids' deaths online so that people could see The Slender Man for themselves.

But The Slender Man wasn't the one who'd slaughtered all of those people at the hospital, or killed Aiden Carver and Allison Argent. That had been multiple persons wielding katana, like it was some slasher movie about evil Samurai. He'd even considered tracking down Ethan Carver to ask about his twin's death, but what little he knew about the boy told him he was highly unlikely to cooperate. If he was living elsewhere and not actively seeking his brother's killer, it was likely the culprits were already dead.

He wouldn't mourn them, either.

Petrakis and his death were also baffling. He had no sympathy for that animal, but he wanted to know how he'd died. No one would talk, his fellow 'hunters' were no help, Violet being in prison and Garrett being locked in isolation in an asylum, terrified of other men. Meredith Walker, The Benefactor, was practically comatose. Sean had already told him everything about what had happened the night his family was murdered, but was obviously lying about the incident at the hospital and Deputy Johnson's death.

At least he'd been honest about the occult ritual in the forest, to a point. He was holding something back there as well.

Probably something about Slender Man.

Patrick Clark had admitted to being a Wendigo, but who'd believe him? A delusional, sociopathic cannibal apparently suffering from Wendigo Psychosis was no help.

If Sean Walcott was a cannibalistic shape-shifter, then he didn't appear to be a very aggressive one. Patrick said that Sean 'was nothing like' him, and that many Wendigo viewed humans as equals and only devoured the dead. That would explain the 'accidental' cremation of a girl whose corpse had been in the morgue when Sean woke up. Why his family ran a mortuary.

But deputy Johnson was clearly murdered, and not by The Mute.

He tried to think rationally, despite the totally irrational subject. A teenage boy, a Wendigo, barely escapes the brutal slaughter of his family, badly injured, he is hospitalized with no access to human flesh, alone with his grief and fear and hunger. The perfect recipe for a psychotic break. Sean went mad and killed and partially ate the deputy guarding him, then was attacked and apparently killed himself by Petrakis. He awoke in the morgue, still ravenous, and devoured a corpse, returning to his normal, gentle self. But how did Scott factor in? Was Scott a Wendigo?

No. That wasn't possible.

Sheriff Stilinski obviously knew how officer Johnson had died, yet he concealed the fact to protect Sean. The only reason Rafael could think of for covering up the death of a fellow officer like that, under these circumstances, was pity. Sean was likely out of his mind, not in control of his actions at the time.

 _Innocent sin_.

If it was true, then what? Sean seemed like a genuinely nice kid, and he couldn't help being born a... _Creature_. To expose him would see him sent to a lab to be studied like an animal, or worse, the military, trying to find a way to weaponize him. Or, the powers that be might just decide to eliminate him instead, and possibly all of Beacon Hills with him.

He was beginning to see why the kids went to such lengths to hide from him, why the Sheriff was so desperate to keep him away. Exposing one would create a domino effect, paranoia would run rampant, riots, murders, witch hunts, 'ethnic cleansing', concentration camps... Fools like the Westboro Baptist Church screaming eternal damnation at everyone and everything that is different, furthering their own descent into Hell.

It would be Hell on earth.

He didn't want that on his conscience. He had enough guilt to last a lifetime.

But he wanted to know why those people had died, who killed those people at the hospital and if they were dead or still at large. It was unlikely Sean knew, he had been with the little group for little more than a month, and at the time of the killings was probably at home with his ill-fated family.

But Scott knew. Scott and Stiles.

If Sean was a Wendigo, what was Scott?

What was his son?

...

To be continued...

Notes

I make no apologies to the Westboro Baptist Church. They do The Devil's Work, and will receive The Devil's Due.

And yes, the world needs more trees.


	34. Chapter 34

Survival

Chapter 34

Confessions

...

The McCall house

Agent Rafael McCall looked up as the front door opened and someone walked in singing ' _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer_ ' from _Cats._

Sean.

And he was surprisingly good.

How does somebody sing a duet with himself?

 _"Was it Mungojerrie_

 _Or Rumpleteazer?_

 _Or could you have sworn_

 _That it mightn't been both?_

 _When you hear a dining room smash-"_

Sean stopped short as he entered the living room, Willow in his arms, a surprised expression on his face.

"Oh, uh... Hi Mr. McCall. I didn't know anyone was here... I was just... Singing..."

"So I heard, very well, too. Have you considered taking drama classes?"

"I don't know if it would conflict with my gymnastics schedule, my therapy sessions, or, more importantly, Church. Since I'm a senior, I probably wouldn't get a chance to go far with it anyways."

That was probably the first time in his life Rafael McCall heard the phrase, 'or, more importantly Church' coming from a teenager's mouth. There was no way this kid was human. "Still, it's worth a shot."

Sean set Willow down on the loveseat and looked at the desk covered in documents, then quickly looked away, "I'm a bit... _Nervous_ around crowds."

"That can be overcome, with effort. And I know you're a very strong, determined young man."

"Thank you sir. I'll think on it."

Rafael McCall didn't want to ask Sean awkward questions about Wendigos and other beings, the boy was suffering enough. Besides, he wanted to confront Scott first.

"Did you see Scott around?"

"Yeah, I thought he'd be here before me, I took a detour to drop off Liam."

"Liam Dunbar?"

"The same. He's kind of like a little brother to me now. We've been through some rough times together." There was a fondness in his voice. They had, apparently, bonded since the rescue.

Was Liam human?

"I'm afraid I have homework I need to do, and it looks like you're busy..."

"Go ahead, I wanted to have a personal talk with Scott when he gets home anyway." Rafe smiled.

Sean walked towards his room, Willow close behind.

 _'When you hear a dining room smash_

 _or up from the pantry there came a loud crash_

 _or down from the library came a loud ping_

 _From a vase that was commonly said to be Miiiiiiiiiiing._

 _Then the family would say: 'Now which was which cat?''_

McCall chuckled and shook his head as the boy continued singing his way to his room.

The door opened again.

"-I mean, it's not like a _'lie'_ lie, it's more like an... _Obfuscation_."

Stiles.

"What's an 'obsfu- Obsta-?"

Scott.

"Obfuscation. It means to make things unclear," Rafe called, "To hide the truth using confusion and misdirection."

Both boys froze in the doorway to the living room.

"Rafe, I was hoping you were gone by now." Stiles gave an obviously fake smile.

"Scott, I need to talk to you-"

"We have practice." Stiles grabbed Scott's arm and made for the door, but Agent McCall beat them to it.

"No, you don't. I know your schedule. I watched the videos of those 'Werewolf hunters' who were murdered, and I saw Slender Man clear as day. I also talked to Patrick Clark. It was obvious he believes he's a Wendigo."

Stiles snorted, "Yeah... It's called Wendigo Psychosis. Look it up."

"I did Stiles. I put it all together. Patrick's a Wendigo. A _real_ Wendigo. Sean..." He hated to say it, "Is probably a Wendigo too, along with his family. The question is, _what_ are _you_ _two?_ "

Stiles paled even further, if that was possible, and Scott frowned deeply.

"Prove it." Stiles challenged.

"Living room. Now."

...

"Listen, if there are non-human crea-"

"People, we're all people."

"Okay, people with special genetics that allow them to... Change. I have no desire to reveal that to the world. I know what would happen if everyone on earth suddenly started wondering if their neighbors were Wendigos or Werewolves or Vampires, and I don't want that to happen. I just want to know the truth. Whatever you tell me, stays with me and me alone."

Scott took a deep breath, "Dad, I'm a Werewolf."

Rafael McCall's world suddenly began to make sense.

"I wasn't born a Werewolf. Mom's human, so are you. So is Stiles. I was bitten by a feral Werewolf, now, I'm an Alpha. I lead the pack. We've made it our mission to protect Beacon Hills and it's people, regardless of race, from any threat that comes by. But we _don't_ kill. I'm not willing to cross that line."

"Then who killed all those people at the hospital?"

"I did." Stiles face was white, his hands clenched into fists, "I was possessed by a fox demon called The Nogitsune. It made me do terrible things, it even created a copy of me for it's own body. It summoned Oni, Japanese spirits, to kill the people at the hospital." There were tears running down his eyes, "We defeated it, but Aiden and Allison died. It was horrible. I could see it all, like in a movie, but I had no power to stop it. All I could do was sit inside my mind and scream..."

He was shaking very badly now, and Scott threw an arm around his shoulder, "That wasn't your fault. I don't blame you, Ethan doesn't blame you, nobody does."

There was a light cough, and Sean entered the room.

"I could smell the tension, the fear. I was afraid something had happened." He sat next to Stiles and hugged him tightly, a comforting gesture. He looked at Rafe with those shining green eyes. "I guess you know now?"

Rafe was dumbstruck. He'd gone through scenarios in his head, but none of them involved scrawny, sarcastic Stiles Stilinski being a killer, even if was under compulsion. Werewolves, Wendigo, Oni, Demonic Possession...

"Sean," He said, in as calm a voice as possible, "Are you a Wendigo?"

"Yes. That's why my family was murdered." Sean's voice was almost as shaky as Stiles, "That's why we were on The Deadpool. Meredith Walker is a Banshee, she could tell who was human, and who was supernatural, and the point of it was to kill all the supernaturals in Beacon Hills, and restock it with stronger creatures, creatures who could fight off hunters. It was a kind of 'survival of the fittest' thing." He looked at Rafe, "How did you know I was a Wendigo, not a Werewolf?"

"Patrick Clark cared about you, and you cared about him. I realized he was a Wendigo while we were talking. I confronted him, and he admitted it, but he never said that you were. I just put two and two together. If you weren't prey to him, you must have been Wendigo too."

Sean gave him an intense look, "My family didn't hunt and kill people. We never hurt anyone."

"I know. That was part of what gave you away, _Walcott Funeral Home_. Patrick said some of his kind waited for people to die naturally rather than kill."

"I better go get some water for you guys, Stiles, Sean, I think you should both take your medication _now_." Scott said softly, "I have a feeling this is a going to be a very stressful afternoon."

...

They talked about everything, the Hales, the Argents, the Kanima, The Alpha Pack, The Darach and The Nemeton, Nogitsune, the massacre at the hospital, the deaths of Allison Argent and Aiden Steiner, the stories behind Peter and Derek Hale, Malia Tate/Hale and Meredith Walker. Sean finally told McCall everything as well, The Mute, The Hunger, officer Johnson's tragic death, the attack on Melissa and battle with Scott, Liam being thrown off the roof and bitten, Sean's brief 'death' and awakening in the morgue, how he came to live with Melissa and Scott, The Mute's death, Liam's kidnapping, Garrett and Violet and how Sean became pack, The Scientist and The Slender Man.

Rafael McCall could understand how Sheriff Stilinski couldn't bring himself to press charges against Sean. The boy had been through a living Hell. But Stiles, who had a brief panic attack during the discussion, had suffered above and beyond anything he could even imagine. The Nogitsune, pure Chaos and Bloodlust, had tortured the boy mentally and physically, forced him to slaughter innocent people, including his best friend's girlfriend, who was also a personal friend.

It was amazing that Stiles could function at all with the burden of such suffering and misplaced guilt. By rights he should have been like Meredith Walker, sitting in Eichen House, staring at nothing.

He learned of the losses of Erica and Boyd, the departures of other members of The Pack, and how Scott somehow managed to hold them all together through it all. A ragtag group of kids, most of them suffering from some sort of mental illness, had managed to stave off attempts by incredibly powerful, and often incredibly evil, forces. His son and their friends, human and supernatural alike, were all that stood between Beacon Hills and destruction.

He understood now what Patrick had meant about having a good bloodline, a family to be proud of. His son and his friends, and occasionally Melissa, had stared down Death many times for the sake of others, often people they didn't even know.

He was ashamed to admit that the heroism probably came from Melissa's side of the family.

Then came the moment of ultimate truth. Scott showed him his Werewolf form. Once he had recovered sufficiently, Sean revealed his Wendigo form. It was at once terrifying and relieving and fascinating. He wasn't crazy. His son wasn't crazy, or involved in some Werewolf cult. It was real, all of it.

Would Scott one day be able to take the full form of a wolf?

Was the transformation painful?

Where did Sean's large, shark-like teeth go when he was in human form?

"It's... A lot to take in." He said, finally, "But I'm glad you finally told me. I was beginning to wonder if I was going insane."

Sean just laughed, "We're all mad here."

...

A little later.

"So, all of you blame yourselves for Liam getting bitten?"

"That's because it was my fault. If I hadn't thrown him off the roof-"

"If I hadn't broken his ankle he wouldn't have been there in the first place."

"I was the one who told you to wolf out on him, it's on me and Malia..."

"And what does Liam say?" Rafe cut in.

"He said it was his fault for showing off. But that's not right, because I was jealous-"

"I didn't even think he was human! I thought he was a Werecheetah!"

"I kidnapped him, threw him off a roof and held you back from pulling him up, it was clearly my fault."

Agent McCall shook his head, if only all criminals were like these boys, each one so troubled by their guilty consciences that they were practically fighting to prove that they were more guilty than the others...

"Okay, okay! I get it. All of you think it was your fault. It was a long string of events involving a lot of people and several mental conditions beyond your control. What does Malia think?"

"That it was Sean's fault." Stiles replied.

"She said that?" Sean looked surprised.

"You're thinking in the wrong direction. The problem isn't who put _Liam_ in the hospital, it's who put _Sean_ in the hospital. I blame The Mute." Rafe said, "If he hadn't killed Sean's family and put him in the hospital, he'd never have succumbed to his hunger and Liam would never have been bitten. And who hired The Mute? The Benefactor. It's all their fault. End of story."

"Eh, I can live with that." Stiles leaned back into the couch.

"Makes sense." Scott replied.

"If The Mute hadn't put a tomahawk in my back, Liam would have dropped to his death. I hate that creature more than anything on earth, but he saved Liam's life."

Stiles face-palmed, "He didn't do it to save Liam's life, he did it to collect $250,000.000 by murdering you. He didn't care about Liam, he just wanted you dead."

"I already had a hold on his arm, I would have saved him anyway."

"Assuming I didn't rip out your spine."

Rafe rolled his eyes, this was ridiculous. "It's no use worrying about what _might_ have happened. And it doesn't do any good trying to blame yourselves for this. Liam was bitten. It's done. It doesn't matter who, how or why. He's a Werewolf now and he's reasonably happy with it. You gave him superpowers, he can heal from almost anything and most diseases can't touch him. Most teenage boys would gladly let you bite them."

When Patrick had said that Sean was 'nothing like him' he'd been right. The boy was beating himself up over something that was beyond his control. He had deep compassion for people, Patrick only saw humans as food. Sean was just _too nice_ to be a predator.

 _Unless_ he was driven to starvation and The Hunger. Rafe couldn't imagine hunger pangs so great that they could change a quite, gentle boy into a savage cannibalistic monster driven solely by hunger. Not even self-preservation could keep a truly hungry Wendigo from attacking any source of potential food. Meaning anything that walks on two legs.

...

Finally, after several hours of bizarre revelations, most of Agent McCall's questions had been answered. His world had changed forever, anyone could be a non-human, and, strangely enough, that really didn't bother him. They were still people, some of them decidedly odd people, but people all the same

"You know, out of everything I've heard today, the most surprising thing is that Stiles is _not_ a supernatural creature of some kind. I assumed you were like a Werebadger or something equally annoying and aggressive."

"Ha-Ha. I'm the honey badger so I just don't care."

Sean laughed, "He's a Sarcasm Cat. Like Grumpy Cat, but sarcastic rather than grouchy."

"Hey, I pull off grouchy just fine, thank you..." Stiles sniped.

As Willow jumped up into Sean's lap, Rafe just had to ask, "What about Willow?"

Sean began petting his beloved cat, "She's a cat. I'm her pet human... Well, Wendigo. No superpowers that I know of, but she's very intelligent, aren't you, your Majesty?"

"Meow."

...

The Walcott House

"This is great, just great. Now an FBI Agent knows all about us! What The Hell were you thinking?!" Derek was seriously close to losing control.

"He already knew. He figured it out on his own, except for The Nogitsune. He knew Sean was a Wendigo and he knew I wasn't human. Now at least he'll stay out of our way, right?" Scott said hopefully.

"So, he knows Sean killed a police officer, Peter's a sociopathic killer and Stiles hosted the freakin' Nogitsune that tore up the hospital."

"He doesn't blame us for that... Well, I'm not sure about Peter, but he knows that neither Stiles nor Sean would hurt anyone while in their right minds. And I got the impression that he wasn't too upset about mouthless and Jennifer."

"Do you know how many defendants who plead insanity are actually recognized as insane? The prisons are full of people who should be getting help in mental institutions instead of rotting away in prison! And I don't think saying that a thousand year old fox demon made you do it would work with any jury-"

"He understands. All he wanted to know is what happened, and who was responsible. The Oni involved are dead, if things like that can die, and Nogitsune is locked away in a magical prison. He just wants to protect people, and he knows that if this gets out, it will bring about mass panic, witch hunts and probably genocide. My dad may have problems, but he's not Hitler."

"All it takes is one misplaced word, one comment, and the whole house of cards comes crashing down..." Derek looked off into empty space, "I know. I trusted Kate, I loved her..."

"My dad may be many things, not all of them good, but he's no Kate Argent."

"May she burn in The Everlasting Fire forever..." Derek's voice was so soft only the other Werewolves could hear him.

...

To be continued...

Notes

 _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer_ was originally sang by Mister Mistoffelees, so it can be sung by one person or two. Sean is too short to play Mungojerrie, though he could likely play Mistoffelees or Pouncival/Carbucketty. He'd have to be an incredible dancer to pull off Mistoffelees, though. Or Pouncival, for that matter. But in a school play the standards would be lower than that of a professional troupe, not requiring as much elaborate dancing/acrobatic skill. As a trained gymnast and acrobat, Sean could do it, assuming he can dance.

It's supposedly a Ming vase, but they really draw out the 'i' in the song, that's why Sean didn't just say 'Ming'.

To avoid any possible problems, I won't identify what religion Sean belongs to, though he's already stated that he's a Christian but not a Catholic. (I honestly haven't picked one for him, anyway).

A female cat is called a Queen. A male, of course, is a Tom. So Willow really is a Queen.

'Cause honey badger just don't care.


	35. Chapter 35

Survival

Chapter 35

 _Have you been an alumnus of Heaven and Hell?_

...

"I'd like to page Melissa McCall please."

Stiles knew what was coming next, but his face held a smirk that was not his own.

One of the Oni next to him plunged his katana into the nurse's abdomen.

The man looked at him in utter bewilderment before falling to the ground to slowly bleed out.

 _They say a stomach wound takes a long time to kill._ A gleeful voice spoke inside his head.

 _Go to Hell!_

"I guess I'll just have to find her myself." The Nogitsune was quickly adopting Stiles' sarcasm.

The lights flickered in response to the demon's presence. It gave a silent command and the Oni began mowing down everyone around them, staff, patients, visitors, everyone in sight.

His body stood there impassively, watching as people screamed and died.

 _This is Hell, Stiles. Well, for you, anyway. To me, it's Heaven. Do you enjoy it?_

 _STOP! Please make it stop!_

 _You should know me well enough by now to realize that begging is pointless. All of these people will die, and then your friends will die. All by our command. Can you feel it boy? The power? Holding life in your hand and crushing it into powder?_

Stiles woke up screaming. His heartbeat was too rapid, he was covered in sweat and shaking.

"Stiles... It's okay. It was just a dream." John Stilinski was sitting beside him on the bed, having heard his smaller screams as the nightmare ran its course. He held his son closely against him.

"N-no, dad. It wasn't a dream. It was a memory." Stiles pressed into his father's arms, "The hospital."

That was all that needed to be said.

What else could he say? Stiles knew that it was that damned demon that killed those people, that tortured him so terribly, but it was his body the demon used, and John knew that Stiles was a sensitive boy that always blamed himself when things went wrong. First his mother's death, then his own drinking problem, then Scott getting bitten, and that Hell-Spawned Fox.

He hugged him more tightly, tears in his own eyes, utterly helpless to ease his son's pain.

All he could do was hold his son and damn Nogitsune to the deepest pits of Hell.

...

Agent Rafe McCall awoke to a terrible scream from upstairs and the sound of rushing feet and slamming doors. He reached for his gun instinctively, but moved his hand away.

Sean had warned him about this.

Night terrors.

He could faintly hear Scott and Melissa offering words of comfort to Sean.

He considered going up, but realized he had nothing to contribute, no way of making Sean feel better. He was long out of practice since that awful day with Scott, the day he'd walked out of his family's life.

The day he'd nearly killed his son in a drunken stupor.

It was almost funny, it seemed his boy had turned out far better without him than he would have with him.

...

Sean Walcott's face was red from embarrassment.

No matter how many times this happened, he would never get over the feeling of helplessness. Of having to be attended to like a small child after a bad dream. He knew, intellectually, that a night terror was to a simple dream what an earthquake was to a single footstep, but it still hurt what little pride he had left.

"I-I'm okay now." He huffed. These night terrors and panic attacks winded him terribly, as he hyperventilated from the fear.

This time it had been the police officer he'd killed. Standing there, bloody and torn by Sean's hand, accusing him, condemning him by his very presence. Reminding him that he'd taken an innocent life, even if it was beyond his control.

He felt Scott's soothing warmth around him as the Alpha pulled him into an embrace. A two person Puppy Pile, then. It seemed so strange, a Wendigo, an outcast even from other supernaturals, being warmly welcomed and treated as pack by Werewolves. He felt his fear fading and wondered if a Werewolf's power to absorb pain extended to fear as well.

"Scott, please don't take it. You did nothing to deserve this pain."

"Neither did you." Came the firm reply.

"I killed that man."

"You were out of your mind with hunger. You had no control over that."

"I know. But my conscience keeps telling me otherwise."

Scott decided to change the subject, "Sean, Wendigo are immune to most poisons, diseases and infections, right?"

"Yeah, we have to be."

"So why are you so scared of germs?"

"Phobias usually don't make sense. I heard of one poor woman who was terrified of olives because they reminded her of human eyes."

"Are there Wendigo who are afraid of human flesh?"

"I hope not." Sean was starting to feel drowsy, "I guess this is what people mean by 'bromance', huh?"

Scott laughed, "Yeah, I think so."

Sean shook his head, "Something doesn't _feel_ right..."

"Woah, dude! It's not me..."

"No, I don't mean _that_ , I mean... I don't know, I think it's Stiles."

"Stiles?" Scott sat up in surprise, "That's weird... I kinda feel it too."

...

John Stilinski picked up his son's cell phone.

"Stiles, it's Scott."

At three in the morning?

Could he actually...?

Stiles took the phone, he'd calmed down a bit "Hi, Scott. Why are you calling?"

"Are you alright? Sean and I both just had this feeling that you might want to talk."

Stiles smiled sadly, "I just had an 'episode'. Are you guys psychic now?"

"Sean just had a night terror, that's why we're up. Then suddenly we were thinking about you. Something just didn't feel right."

John wasn't particularly surprised, he'd seen so much since finding out about the supernatural that some kind of empathic bond between his son and his best friend seemed perfectly natural.

"A disturbance in The Force, eh?"

"More of an 'I have a bad feeling about this' moment." Sean's voice came over the phone.

"Dude, you like _Star Wars?_ " Stiles' asked happily.

"Did Han shoot first?"

"Oh Lord..." John and Scott moaned simultaneously.

...

"I wish they'd make a Darth Tenebrous figure. A Bith Sith Lord. That's awesome."

"And can you believe that Palpatine's first name is 'Sheev'?"

"I always thought it was something like 'Ignatius'."

John and Scott stood in the doorway to Stiles' room.

"Who knows that kind of stuff?" Scott whispered.

John shook his head. "Evidently, Stiles and Sean."

"I figured that Sean was obsessed with _Cats_ , he sings the songs a lot..."

"Sean sings?"

"Yeah, he's incredible. He's going to try out for drama class."

"What do you say we get some coffee while they chat each other's ears off?"

"Please!"

...

"Did you know that Femi Taylor, the actress who plays Oola in _Return of The Jedi_ , was in the original London cast of _Cats_ as Tantomile and in the movie as Exotica. They created the role of Exotica just for her."

"Of course," Stiles replied, "Did you know she could still fit into the Oola costume when they re-released _Return of The Jedi_ in 1997 for one of the new scenes?

"There wasn't much of a costume to fit into, but she's kept in shape. It's important to keep in shape as a dancer."

"Which one was Tantomile?"

"The female twin."

"The thieves?"

"No, you're thinking of Rumpleteazer, of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. Tantomile was Coricopat's twin sister. Mungo and Rumple were orange tabbies, Tantomile and Cori were brown, black and white. They were kind of psychic."

Stiles shrugged, "I've never actually seen _Cats_."

Sean's eyes widened in horror, "You've never seen _Cats_!? I'll bring my copy over as soon as possible, you have to see it!"

"Oh joy, musical theater..." Stiles rolled his eyes.

...

Later,

John stood in the doorway and watched as the three boys lay wrapped around each other, peacefully sleeping.

Puppy Piles, they called it.

As silly as it sounded, and despite that fact that neither Stiles nor Sean were canids of any kind, it seemed to work. All three had peaceful expressions on their faces, as if the physical presence of the others drove away all of their concerns.

It didn't, of course. They were still extremely emotionally scarred kids, but it gave them comfort, something they all desperately needed.

Together, they were strong.

And he prayed that nothing would find it's way between them.

...

To be continued...

Notes

' _Have you been an alumnus of Heaven and Hell?_ ' is a line from _Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats_ from the musical _Cats_. It struck me as an odd line, but it could apply very well to several members of The Pack. In canon, Liam, Isaac, Derek and of course, Stiles. I'd imagine Ethan would have a hard time as well. Had Sean lived, he'd have suffered from panic attacks and night terrors as well.

In the movie version of _Cats_ this line was sung by Tumblebrutus.

 _Star Wars : Return of The Jedi_ premiered in 1983. 14 years later Femi Taylor could still fit into her dancing girl costume and portray Oola with no noticeable difference in her appearance.

And yes, _Han shot first._

I know, I open with a lot of dream/nightmare sequences. Think of them as flashbacks if it bothers you.

Darth Tenebrous was Darth Plagueis' master, who was in turn Darth Sidious' master.


	36. Chapter 36

Survival

Chapter 36

Connor

...

Stiles found _Cats_ very interesting, mainly for the wrong reasons.

"Why's that Pouncival kid humping that hot, slutty chick? Well, I mean it's obvious _why_ he's doing it, but if that Tugger jerk turns around, he's one dead kitty."

Sean sighed at the screen. "It's not exactly 'humping', more like 'rubbing his butt against her leg... And her hand...'" He shifted uncomfortably, the show could be a bit _racy_ at times, "Bombalurina's better off with Pouncival anyway. Tugger's a player." He shook his head, "Wait until The Jellicle Ball, they practically mate onstage." He frowned, "And she's _not_ 'slutty'. Tugger on the other hand..."

Stiles grinned, "A love triangle? This may be interesting after all... Of course, by the way Tugger physically straddled Pouncival and slapped his ass, he might enjoy the idea of a threesome."

"I doubt Rum Tum Tugger 'loves' any of his girls. He's just a pompous flirt. As for why Tugger was humping Pouncival, I have no clue. I mean, John Partridge, who played Tugger, _is_ gay. Karl Morgan, Pouncival, is straight, I assume, since he has a wife and kids now. He and his wife run a dance school for kids now."

"Maybe he was just copping a feel?"

"Everything is carefully choreographed, I'm sure it was in the script. Maybe it was a dominance display, like when Scott growls his 'Alpha' growl.."

"I still say he was molesting him. And did you see the way that tall, skinny, pale tom cat was flinging his legs up at Tugger and staring at his crotch?"

"Plato, Bryn Walters. He also plays Macavity, but we haven't gotten to Macavity yet. And _everyone_ was looking at Tugger."

Stiles arched a brow, "Okay, I get knowing the characters' names, but the performers'?"

Sean shrugged, "You knew who played Oola, how's that any different? I bet you know who played Moff Jerjerrod."

"That's easy, Michael Pennington. And it was Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod. Do you know who played Sim Aloo?"

"Anthony Lang." Sean shook his head, "Nevermind, we're watching _Cats_!"

"Is it just me, or does Alonzo look like Willow?"

They missed a great deal of the music as Stiles continually pointed out various features of Bombalurina and Demeter's impressive anatomies and sensual dances that he found stimulating.

"Man, that was like _Kitty_ _Porn_." Stiles remarked as the credits rolled by.

Sean sighed sadly, "I try to bring a little culture into your life, and all you can think of is sex."

"Look, I'm 17, I risk my life constantly fighting evil monsters and demons and things that go bump in the freakin' night. I've been kidnapped, tortured, poisoned, beaten and possessed. My best friend's a Werewolf, my girlfriend's a Werecoyote and I just watched _Cats_ with a Wendigo. I probably won't even live to see 18, so I think I have a right to enjoy myself."

Sean put an arm around Stiles' shoulders, "Don't talk like that Stiles, if anyone can survive, it's you. You've lived through things I can't imagine, and I haven't exactly had it easy lately."

"You came back from the dead, that's hard to top."

"Catalepsy, not death."

"Hey, Sean, can you dance?"

"Not like that. Well, like some of that, very basic stuff, but ballet? Nope."

"I wonder if Werecats are hot like that..." He sighed.

...

Peter Hale watched as a tall, thin figure in dark robes approached The Nemeton, making no effort to conceal itself. He could smell it was a man, a human, though he smelled of the forest and earth. He wasn't afraid, merely curious. As he drew closer Peter could see that it was a pale-skinned, red-haired man, with Celtic symbols etched across his thin, freckled face and hands.

"You know this is Hale property, don't you?"

"Aye. But when I went to ask permission, no one was at home." His voice was soft, with an Irish accent, "I wasn't expecting ye' to be guarding The Nemeton, Peter Hale."

"You have me at a distinct disadvantage, you know who I am, and I know nothing of you, save that you look like a Druid."

"Ye' have a keen eye. I'm Connor."

"Connor. _Wolf_ , right?"

Connor was standing in front of him now, neither intimidated nor attempting to intimidate Peter.

"Ironic, don'tcha think?"

"Why are you here?"

"Because o' The Nemeton, a' course. I'm one of The Guardians. Was we who helped The Nemeton return to its former glory, after it absorbed that energy an' came back from the dead."

"I know two people who've come back from the dead personally, and I'm one of them"

"The other would be the Walcott lad, Sean? Wendigo are impressive creatures, but they don' get the respect they deserve." He put a hand to The Nemeton trunk, "They, like Banshee, walk hand-in-hand with Death, and 'ave a better understandin' of The Balance a' things. A few of them 'ave become great Druids."

"Right now I'm more interested in why you and your group came here, and why you healed The Nemeton."

" 'Course ya are. M' apologies. We, The Guardians, protect spots of great energy, both sacred and profane. The Nemeton is a sacred thing, though The Darach and that fox demon profaned it with their evil. The Slender Man's energies, we couldn' make heads nor tails a' that, it's outside a' our knowledge. We couldn't save it before, but now that it's alive again we can heal an' protect it." He pulled back his hood, revealing his long red hair.

"What do you mean, sacred _and_ profane?"

"There's a balance, ye see. In all things. Some places are full a' darkness an' evil, but without them worse things could come. So they are guarded, protected and nurtured, though the Guardians who protect them usually are are 'evil' as well."

"And you, are you evil, too?"

"We're all a' us good an' evil both, I strive t' be Neutral, neither one nor the other."

"Why was The Nemeton cut down before, if it had Guardians?"

Connor frowned, "Because The Guardians themselves were cut down by the bloody Argents." For the first time since they'd met, Peter sensed anger, carefully suppressed, but there nonetheless.

"Where do you intend to live while you guard The Nemeton?"

"I 'ave a dwellin', yes, on yer land, without yer say."

The man's nerve was somewhat amusing, "How do you know I won't kill you, or toss you off my property?"

"'Cause that'd be a terrible waste. And yer not as bad as ye' think."

"You said 'we', where are the others?"

"They left. I was chosen to stay behind."

"How do you intend to protect yourself? Beacon Hills is a dangerous place, the forest even more so. There are plenty of monsters like me roaming around in the night."

"I know a' The Old Ways. I can do terrible things to people, should I put m' mind t' it."

"That didn't help the previous Guardians." Peter observed wryly.

"That Kate Argent were in league in league with Th' Devil himself. Gerard too. Besides, The Old Ways don' do much t' deflect bullets."

"How do you intend to eat?"

"I lived off the land since I was born. I suppose it's poor manners not t' to ask the landowner before goin' huntin'."

"Yes, I believe they call that trespassing and poaching. I don't much care, as long as you don't make trouble, but you may meet my nephew and his friends. They're a bunch of soft pups, they won't mind either, I'm sure. And we have a cabin that nobody uses, if you want shelter."

"Thank ye, but I prefer t' live outdoors, though if a blizzard or a rain a' frogs come, I may be seekin' shelter."

"It actually has rained frogs several times in Beacon Hills. But I'd worry more about snow and hail."

"Was a joke, I don' mind frogs. Thank ye for yer hospitality, my shelter's designed to protect me from things like hail, it's underground, ye see."

"It's not near the old house, is it?" Peter didn't care if a Druid decided to protect The Nemeton for him, but he didn't want anyone messing around with the ruins where his family was massacred.

"No. That be a different kind of sacred, personal. I wouldn't intrude upon a man's pain and memories like that."

He could tell Connor was being completely honest with him, unless he had some sort of glamour like The Darach had used. "How did you know Sean Walcott was a Wendigo?"

"Our more powerful members can read auras, tell who an' what a person is. Like I said, we did careful research, of all of Beacon Hills. This was before the poor lad's family was butchered by that renegade Astomi. Talkin' of The Mute, did ye kill him?"

"He put a tomahawk laced with wolfsbane in my chest. I gave Sean the first shot, because he lost his whole family to that bastard, but he's too kind to kill anyone in cold blood, even that trash. So I stepped in and did what had to be done, as usual."

"I was certain McCall didn' do it, he don' have it in him. Neither does Sean."

"They're good kids, _too_ good. The world doesn't work that way. Enemies don't just walk away after a stern warning. The Darach, The Mute, that whore Kate Argent, they won't trouble us again. Who knows if Deucalion might try to come back? Or Gerard decides to take us all with him before he goes to Hell." He shook his head, "They just don't understand."

...

Rafe McCall couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable sitting at the dinner table with a Wendigo. He knew the boy was basically harmless and that he was eating stir-fried pork, not human flesh, but it still felt a bit creepy.

His day had been busy, he and Scott had visited Sheriff Stilinski and explained that he now knew the situation and would try to stay out of the way. Stilinski had been relieved to hear that, the man was so burdened down with the secrets, the lies and his son's illnesses and suffering that he was close to breaking. Learning that Deputy Parrish wasn't human explained several things, his association with the kids and his inclusion on The Deadpool, though he still refused to say _what_ he was.

Now that he saw things with open eyes, Stiles really wasn't as rude, obnoxious and unpleasant as he had thought. He was just suffering, terribly. Sarcasm and sass were his only defenses against the horrors he'd witnessed and been subjected to. Most trained professionals Rafe new would have broken under such weight, especially The Nogitsune, but Stiles managed to struggle onward. His inner strength was incredible.

He could still be annoying as Hell, though.

"So, did Stiles like _Cats_?"

"Stiles liked certain cats, particularly the queens with big... _Personalities_."

"Sounds like Stiles to me." Scott was still unsure about his father, the man who had abandoned him and his mother. It was hard not to be resentful, but at the same time he was still his dad. He wanted him in his life. He wasn't so sure his mother agreed, their was a lot of anger and resentment between them, she was letting him stay on her couch, that didn't mean she would welcome him back into their lives.

"Does this mean you'll be leaving?" Probably not the best way to put it.

"I think I should probably stay and help with all of these supernatural threats."

Uh-oh. Whenever they involved other people, especially the law and parents, things usually headed South real quick.

"No. I mean, are you going to stay in Beacon Hills?"

"That depends on Washington. They may call me back soon, or send me somewhere else. i can't exactly tell them that I'm staying with my Werewolf son and his Wendigo friend helping a pack of Werewolves defend suburbia, can I?"

"That would be a quick way to end your career." Sean noted, "That and talking about UFOs. You could probably get a job on the police force."

"I think I've burnt enough bridges with the Stilinski's that we'll never be comfortable together."

"I nearly ate Mrs. McCall and threw Liam Dunbar off a roof, forcing Scott to bite him to save his life, but they understood that I wasn't myself and are like a mother and little brother to me."

"I doubt you could have eaten Melissa," Rafe smiled, "She'd have had you writhing in pain before you could take the first bite. Knee to the balls, I've felt it. I still feel it sometimes."

Melissa smirked, "Good."

 _Ouch._

Both Sean and Scott winced at the thought.

...

To be continued...

Notes

Please forgive my poor attempts at an Irish accent.

Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod was in charge of construction of The Second Death Star in _Star Wars : Return of The Jedi_. He had the displeasure of greeting both Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine upon their separate arrivals. He was killed when The Death Star was destroyed.

Sim Aloo was the tall, thin Imperial Dignitary who traveled to The Second Death Star with Emperor Palpatine. He presumably died when it was destroyed.

How does Stiles know the names of the various cats? Sean pointed them out as they appeared, others are obvious because they're named in their songs, like Old Deuteronomy, Rum Tum Tugger, Jennyanydots, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, Gus, Skimbleshanks, Macavity and Mister Mistoffelees.

Pouncival is also known as Carbucketty. Or sometimes Carbucketty is a separate cat. Sometimes there's no Pouncival only Carbucketty, and vice versa. He's a clumsy, playful, adorable kitten who tries too hard to impress, usually falls on his face, gets knocked over, etc... He let's his friends push him into doing stupid/bad things. He's also my favorite cat. Sorry Mungojerrie, but it was _very_ close...

And no, I do _not_ think Bombalurina is slutty. But Rum Tum Tugger was definitely molesting Pouncival during his song.

Karl Morgan and his wife Janine run a dance school for boys called _Movement Warriors_ in England.


	37. Chapter 37

Survival

Chapter 37

Contradiction

...

Warning, this chapter contains descriptive cannibalism.

...

Mr. Weinberg, head of the drama department, looked at the young man standing on the stage, trying to figure him out. He knew of Sean Walcott, most of the world knew his story, the miracle boy who'd come back from the dead after his family was brutally slaughtered. Since then he'd helped solve his family's murder, saved Liam Dunbar's life, captured a pair of psychotic teenage bounty hunters and convinced Patrick Clark to surrender to police, saving Misty Holland's life in the process. He was a remarkable young man, indeed, a media darling and a _bona fide_ hero. And from the disk he'd been given he was quite talented as well. Still, in person he seemed timid and anxious.

Hardly the qualities for an actor.

"So, Sean, you're a gymnast with some experience in acrobatics, minor dance training and a fine singing voice. The question is, can you act?"

Sean gave an odd smile. He'd been acting his entire life, pretending to be human rather than Wendigo. Of course, he couldn't tell Mr. Weinberg that. "I'm not sure, sir. I've never acted before, in a play."

"Then we shall see. Have you read Shakespeare?"

"Yes sir."

That was one thing about Sean, he answered questions in a polite but vague manner.

"Anything in particular?"

" _The Tempest_ , _Romeo and Juliet_ , and _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"Anything else that interests you?"

" _Cats_."

"That's aiming pretty high. What role?"

"I realize I'm too short and muscular for most roles. Perhaps Pouncival or Carbucketty."

"That would fit your skills, but you'd have no solo. Why not Mistoffelees, he's small?"

"I'd rather be a secondary character. Besides," He smiled, "He's funnier."

"Odd that you'd aim for the Holy Grail of musicals but only want a minor part." A lack of ambition, perhaps? Or a lack of self-confidence? Or just a desire to make others laugh? "You realize that while I sympathize with the tragedies involving your family and yourself, as well as recognize your relative fame, I cannot treat you any differently than any other student."

"I don't want special treatment, I want to achieve things on my own merits, not pity." He swallowed hard, "And I'd rather do without that kind of 'fame'. There is one thing I do ask, that I not be placed anywhere near a prop of an axe, hatchet or tomahawk."

"That's certainly understandable, given the circumstances, but we have nothing planned involving such things."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Mr. Weinberg."

...

It turned out that Ian McCrae was also a member of the drama club, and was assigned to show Sean the ropes, as it were. He might have talent, but being home-schooled and isolated most of his life had left Sean a bit socially awkward. The fact that he knew his guide helped. Granted, they had first met in The Jungle with Ian practically naked and trying to get into Sean's pants, but that was the past. He knew several of the other students already, Alex Cross, Josh Diaz, and, of all people, Kira.

"You have to be careful around here. When a show or a play comes along, the competition for good roles can be cut-throat, especially towards new students." Ian warned, "I overheard your interview with Mr. Weinberg. There are guys who'd kill for the role of Mr. Mistoffelees. Were you serious when you said you'd rather not play him given the chance?"

"Yes. I'm a contradiction, I guess, someone who wants to be an entertainer but doesn't want the spotlight. Besides, I like Pouncival better."

"It is kind of surprising you'd join drama. You're usually a shy, quiet person, you'd seem the last person to want to be in a production, even if you can sing, dance and perform gymnastics."

"I haven't danced for some time, I'd have to practice as hard as everyone else." He shrugged, "But being all wrapped up in my problems isn't going to help me get anywhere. When I'm on the bars or the rings I'm not able to think about the pain, I have to focus on not screwing up, on being my best. Hopefully the stage will be the same."

Ian leaned closer and whispered, "What about your anxiety problems? The panic attacks? All of the work that goes into a production can be incredibly stressful at times."

"I have to learn to live with my problems. I may stumble a bit, but it's better than not trying at all." Sean felt a sudden pain in his stomach, and winced.

 _Not now._

"Sean, are you alright?"

"I have to go home. My condition's acting up again. Thank you for showing me around, I'll see you tomorrow." Sean rushed through his vague explanation and headed for the door.

...

A short time later,

"Hey, Stiles," Sean approached the taller boy, "Could you do me a favor and drive Liam home. I... I have to stop at my house and, well, _eat_. He doesn't need to see that."

"O-Kay. I'll do that. Can't have him ending up as a light snack, can we?" He paused, "Are you alright to drive like this?"

" Thank you. I'm not that hungry, yet. But I will be in a few hours unless I eat." He paused, "I'll tell him when I see him. Do you know where he might be? I have to leave as soon as possible, and don't want him to be waiting for me after I'm already gone."

"He's probably headed to the field for practice. I'm going that way, so I'll tell him for you."

"Thanks again."

Sean rushed out to David's car, not able to wait for the closing bell, and headed back to the lonely old mansion that had once been his home. All of the stress and excitement was getting to him, making him hungry. He definitely did not want anyone to witness him eating his grim repast. He didn't even want to eat it, but he had no choice. His body needed human flesh, he'd killed one innocent man and caused Liam to be turned into a Werewolf last time his Hunger took control. Never again did he want that to happen, for innocent people to suffer because of him.

He had enough grief and guilt to last a hundred lifetimes.

He pulled into the garage and shut it behind him, unlocking the door, locking it behind him and heading straight for the stairs, and the freezer. A slight push on the right board and the freezing air washed over him like a wave.

He hated the cold.

Sean walked over to the body of the woman that he had been feeding on the past few times The Hunger had struck him, and there wasn't much left. He sighed, his breath cloudy in the freezing air, and took down the body, then walked over to another shrouded form, a man this time. He wouldn't let the woman go to waste, but he needed more than what was left. He hurried into the hidden, blessedly warm dining room and began to prepare dinner. Once everything was properly cooked he began carving the meat.

He hated it. He hated desecrating bodies, eating human flesh. But he was a Wendigo. He could at least take comfort in the fact that neither he nor his family had killed these people.

The table was so empty without his family.

So quiet.

Perhaps, one day he could invite Donovan over for dinner, just to have someone to talk to, to share a meal with.

...

Liam leaned back into his seat, "It must be hard for him to be alone in that house."

"I doubt you'd be able to handle him preparing and eating dinner."

Liam crossed his arms over his chest, "I've seen plenty of sick stuff, like what happened with Slender Man and that crazy guy. Or when that girl snapped that nut's neck. And I see Stiles naked in the locker room all the time."

Stiles laughed, "Feeling inadequate at the sight of a real man, kid? Don't worry, you'll get bigger, if you're lucky."

Liam kicked the back of Stiles' seat, a bad idea as he was driving.

"Hey, watch that, you scuff my seats, I'll scuff your ass!" Stiles shouted angrily.

"I bet you'd love to get your hands on my ass."

Brett growled, "Would both of you shut-up! I'm bi, and even I have no interest in hearing about either of your asses!"

"What, you don't think I'm good enough? I'll have you know I've been told that I have a very nice bubble butt." Stiles looked hurt.

Brett just smirked, "You do."

Liam stuck a finger down his throat and made a gagging noise.

"Weren't we talking about Sean, loneliness and eating people?" Scott tried desperately to change the subject.

"Sean has a nice-"

Scott's Alpha growl quieted everyone. He smiled and leaned back in his seat, "Finally. Back on topic, Liam, you've seen corpses, you've seen monsters, you've even seen Slender Man and witnessed a murder. But you've never seen someone chop up a human body and eat it. And Sean wouldn't want you to have to see that. He cares about you and wants to keep you safe and out of Eichen House. We all do, right?"

"I don't know, it might do him some good..."

Scott shot Stiles a furious red glare, "Sean can barely handle the sight of his... _Food_ , and he's a Wendigo. I don't think any of us could handle watching a Wendigo eat, except maybe Peter, because he's a sociopath and has killed people horribly in the past."

"And we hang out with him why?" Stiles asked.

"It's better than letting him roam around on his own. Besides, he has helped us a lot."

"And he killed The Mute."

"That's not a good thing, Liam." Scott said sternly.

"Well, at least we know that mouthless freak won't murder anyone again, thanks to Peter." Liam argued.

"That's not our way, we're not killers. We're not monsters."

"That depends on your definition of 'monster'. Most humans would consider Werewolves, Wendigo and Banshees to be monsters. Well, Banshee are typically considered ghosts or spirits and Wendigo are traditionally considered evil spirits in most cultures-"

Scott shook his head, "But they're not. I'm not talking about what _other_ _people think_ we are, I'm talking about what we _actually_ are. People. Plain, ordinary people with superhuman abilities."

"Like mutants in The Marvel Comics Universe."

"Right."

"I still prefer DC. _Batman_. Of course, _I_ get stuck being Robin. That reminds me, Sean got into drama class, which is weird because he's so shy and afraid of crowds."

"How many people actually attend school plays?"

"That depends on the play, advertising, promotional work..."

"Guys," Liam spoke up, "I just realized, all of you, except Brett, are Seniors. What's going to happen after this year, when you go off to college and we're stuck in high school?"

Stiles grinned, "I doubt Scott will graduate for a few more years. He thought Napoleon was a type of ice cream."

"Stiles, that was years ago!" Scott shouted over the laughter.

"It was last semester!"

Scott punched Stiles in the arm.

"Hey, I'm trying to drive here!"

"We'll talk about the graduation thing next pack meeting, Liam. That'll be tonight, if Sean is up to it. I doubt any of us, well, except Lydia and maybe Sean, are able to afford college. You won't get rid of us that easily."

"I figured Stiles would get a scholarship. I mean, he's a genius."

"Unfortunately, my behaviour made it unlikely I'd get a scholarship. My record's longer than a Super Star Destroyer..."

"You can't help having ADHD and panic attacks! That's not right!" There was genuine anger in Liam's voice.

"Life ain't fair, kid."

...

To be continued...

Notes

The Super Star Destroyer _Executor_ , Darth Vader's personal flagship, was 19,000 kilometers long. That's over 1,1806 miles long.


	38. Chapter 38

Survival

Chapter 38

College?

...

Sean was balancing on one hand while holding his cell phone in the other, "I'm fine now, aside from the whole gross-out factor. So, since both your parents know, do you want to hold the meeting at your house?"

"God no! The last thing we need when we're talking about our future is our _parents_ giving advice!" Scott replied, "We were hoping to use your house, if it's alright."

"It's fine. When?"

"After dinner, around 7."

Sean carefully lowered himself to the ground. It was almost 4, "Okay, I'll head to your place for now. I still don't like being alone here for that long, and I'll need to check on Willow."

"I have Stiles, Liam and Brett with me, and I'll call the others."

...

The Walcott house

Lydia leaned forward, "So, this Connor is a Druidic Guardian sent to protect The Nemeton? Deaton will want to meet him, if he hasn't already."

"So will Satomi." Brett stated. "The Nemeton is on Hale Territory, but it affects our pack too."

Brett was the odd-man out in The McCall Pack. He was actually a member of The Satomi Pack, he was just a temporary addition to Scott's, though he was willing to fight, and die, for both.

"Is he human?" Malia asked.

Derek shrugged, "Peter said that he was human, and he has Celtic runes tattooed over the visible parts of his body, so that means he doesn't have healing powers like a Werewolf."

"I wonder if he'd let us translate?"

"I doubt it."

"Remember, we're here to talk about what to do when we graduate." Scott pointed out.

"When _you_ graduate, you mean." Liam said glumly.

"You don't _have_ to go to college to survive, you know."

"Sorry, Sourwolf, but not all of us have millions of dollars to keep ourselves off the streets."

"What I'm saying, _Little Red_ ," Derek gave a slight smirk as Stiles grimaced at the nickname, "Is that you don't need a college degree to get a job. A lot of college graduates can't find work, it's just the economy. Even if you do want a degree, you have online courses and we have a good community college right here in Beacon Hills."

"My parents will kill me if I don't get into a good college." Kira remarked.

"It's not like we need lying foxes in The Pack-"

Kira snarled at Liam, who growled back, eyes yellow.

"What we don't need are whiney puppies-"

"Kira, Liam! Stop this right now!" Scott shouted.

Both were standing now, Liam with fangs bared and in full wolf-mode, Kira smirking with the thought she could take him down easily.

Sean jumped up, seemed to fall, tumbled, then did a handstand, walking between the two on his hands, then doing a backflip over the couch, landing on his feet.

Everyone was looking at the young Wendigo in surprise. They began to clap as Sean cartwheeled over, stopping right beside Liam, jumped upright and put an arm around the boy's shoulder. Liam was still breathing hard, still angry, but fighting it.

"That... Was cool." He'd seen Sean training, but not performing. He had to admit, the boy could move.

Sean mussed the boy's hair, he shied away a bit, blushing.

"Thank you. Come on into my training room, I'll show you a few tricks."

Liam laughed, "That sounds kind of dirty."

Sean grinned, "C'mon, I'll give you some candy."

"Stranger danger!" Stiles shouted in mock warning.

"They don't get much stranger than him." Liam teased, "Or you, Stiles."

Scott motioned that they should let the two go on alone, though Derek followed them in case they needed any help.

"That was a novel solution to a potential fight." Lydia observed.

"And it was entertaining, too."

...

"This is really simple, you have more than enough strength to support your body with your arms, it's just a matter of balance."

Sean was lightly holding Liam up by the waist as he tried to gain his balance. He'd done more than enough upper-body exercises like push-ups and chin-ups as a human to support himself, as a Werewolf, he had superior strength and enhanced agility. While walking on his hands and doing cartwheels was unlikely to aid in a fight, being able to backflip, somersault and leap would be a great advantage.

"I think I got it, you can let go now."

Sean let go but stood nearby as Derek watched from the doorway.

The practice room was large and mostly empty, save for mats , a few bars lined against the wall and a pair of rings hanging from the ceiling. Sean's family had really supported his efforts towards gymnastics.

They watched Liam proceed a few steps on his hands before losing balance, Sean caught him before he could fall. "You're doing great, but you should probably just stay still and find your balance before trying to walk around, okay?"

"Balance is not something I'm good at." Liam admitted, and he wasn't talking about athletics. "Thanks. I don't know what came over me."

"It's not your fault you have IED, any more than it's Stiles' or my own fault we have PTSD. Or the fact that I turn into a cannibalistic monster when I get too hungry."

"I know. It's just, it was nothing, I just felt mad at Kira for no reason."

"I threw you off a roof, well, actually I think I dropped you. I wasn't thinking very clearly and then I died."

"What was it like?"

"I didn't really die, I just kind of shut down. It was like sleep, I guess, I don't remember anything."

"Do you think I could learn to do backflips and jumps like that?"

"You have the strength for it, you just need training." He was silent for a moment, " _Liam Dunbar_. That's a fine Scottish name. My dad would have had you in a kilt playing the bagpipes."

"I'm not doing a handstand in a kilt! I already streaked through town once, I don't want to show the world everything again."

"I meant like dancing, or marching in a parade. Dad was proud to be a Scot." He smirked, "Oh, and I think I've found your center of gravity."

"Where?"

"Right here." Sean gave him a light swat on the behind.

"Jerk." Liam pouted as Sean and Derek laughed.

...

"Well, I can't order you to do this, but I plan on staying right here." SCott said firmly "I swore to protect Beacon Hills, and I will."

"Eh, I don't think I'd like a college environment," Stiles replied, "Besides, who could afford it?"

"We might be able to persuade my parents, since they're Kitsune too. They should understand. But no promises."

"Like I'd go to college." Malia said bluntly.

"I'm only here on a temporary basis," Brett explained, "And it's difficult enough being a part of two different packs, even if we are allies. I'm pretty much anchored here, with Satomi and you." He looked at Scott, "But goin' pro would be nice..."

Lydia was deep in thought. She could easily afford college, and she already had offers of scholarships. But The Pack needed her genius. True, Stiles was a genius too, but two heads are better than one. But it was something she wanted, and, frankly, to get away from the death-trap that was Beacon Hills would be nice. "Like Brett said, I'm anchored here." She smiled, "I can't leave you idiots to try to figure things out on your own. I may go to the community college, but nothing out of pack territory."

"That leaves Sean and Liam. I don't think Sean could leave even if he wanted to, with his family business and his... Dietary restrictions. And," Scott looked to make sure Sean was still gone, "No offence to Sean, but I don't think he's ready to survive on his own."

"I think he'd agree with you." Brett stated, "He hasn't said anything about leaving Beacon Hills, even after everything he's been through."

...

Later,

Stiles walked over to Sean as the others began to leave.

"So, what did you think about _The Force Awakens_?"

"I found the lack of Constable Zuvio disturbing." Sean replied, "I mean, he was in all the promotional works, he got two action figures, and they cut his entire scene? He was one of the main reasons I went to see the movie!"

"You went just to see Constable Zuvio? That's dedication!"

"No, I wanted to see the movie, I was just upset he wasn't in it."

Stiles laughed, "Kylo Ren looked like Mozenrath from the old _Aladdin_ cartoon to me."

"I thought so too!" Sean grinned. "What about Hitler Jr. with his hysterical screaming and flailing speech and all the stormtroopers doing the Nazi salute at the end? Could they have made the metaphor _any_ more obvious?"

"They could have given him a tiny mustache."

"Supreme Leader Snoke was kind of cool though."

"Yeah, and I'm glad Peter Mayhew could come back as Chewbacca. After 38 years he's still got it."

"It was cool to see Ackbar again, too."

"You know" Stiles said wistfully, "I used to dream about being Jabba The Hutt, and having Princess Leia in her slave outfit dancing for me..."

"And strangling you to death." Sean snorted.

Stiles' eyes lit up, "Hey, it's still playing at the 11. Want to go see it again?"

"Sure. You can never see enough _Star Wars_."

Stiles pulled Sean into a hug, "Oh, man, if I wasn't dating Malia, I'd be in love with you!"

"Thank God you're dating Malia!"

...

To be continued...

Notes

I was deeply disappointed they cut out Constable Zuvio's scenes from _Star Wars : The Force Awakens_.

Chewie is still cool after all these years. _Long Live The Mighty Wookie!_ Give Chewbacca an Oscar! Best Supporting Character! And give him the medal already! Have they not invented step ladders in the Star Wars Universe?

And yes, in this story the surviving Hales are rich.

I am not telling people not to go to college,I am just pointing out that it does not guarantee success in life.


	39. Chapter 39

Survival

Chapter 39

A Few Good Cats

...

Mr. Walters stood before his drama class and smiled. He hadn't expected this, and he knew they certainly hadn't. Beside him was Miss. Grant, head of Beacon Hills Community College theater productions.

The students were all confused and excited as to what the announcement would be, though a few had already guessed. It was no secret about the big production the college was putting on that summer.

"All right, students. Settle down. Now, we have some exciting news for you, though I'll leave that to Miss. Grant."

Miss. Grant was a tall, thin, grey-haired woman with a dancer's build and grace, and she looked over the students appraisingly, "As most of you know, The College Theater has planned on putting on a production of _Cats_ for some time now."

Sean gasped audibly.

"The problem is, some of our performers have left for... More hospitable climes, and we haven't enough players at the moment."

Sean felt like he was having a heart attack.

"But, as they say, the show must go on. To be blunt, I'm in need of a few good cats."

It was all he could do not to scream.

"Swing cats, chorus cats, even a few notable parts. So we'll be taking auditions from amongst you."

Sean didn't even realize what a stupid grin he had on his face.

"I won't lie to you, the work will be grueling, you'll have to catch up with performers who've been working on this production for quite some time. As it is going to be held after your semester ends, you'll have extra time to prepare, but not much. And your reception among my students might not be as warm as I'd like it to be. But this is the chance of a lifetime." She inhaled deeply, "There is one more thing, while we mainly need swing cats and chorus cats, one of the major roles is open."

Everyone looked at each other in excitement.

"While it still may go to one of my students, the role of Mr. Mistoffelees is currently vacant."

Ian fainted, but Sean caught him.

"Both the actor portraying Mistoffelees, and his understudy, playing Pouncival, moved away."

Sean himself nearly fainted at the name 'Pouncival'.

 _Easy Sean, you don't have the role yet._ He thought, _You haven't even auditioned._

...

Stiles grinned lewdly, "Admit it, you just want to play Pouncival so you can rub your butt up against some hot chick's leg."

All of the others, aside from Kira, looked shocked, not having seen the film.

"Are you constantly in rut, Stiles?"

"Yes."

"I don't think they'll have that scene, and if they do, they can have another cat do it." Sean said with determination, "Besides, I haven't even auditioned yet, I might end up playing another cat. Or not get cast at all."

"That's not likely," Kira said "I've seen you in action, I'm pretty sure you'll get a part."

"So you guys actually have sex on stage?" Liam asked, blushing a little.

Sean considered that question, "At the end of The Mating Dance, everyone lies down with someone. It might look like it, especially with the dim lighting." He was blushing now, "But no. At most I'd cuddle..."

"What if she wants to make it look like more?" Brett asked. "What if she has wandering hands?"

"Then one cat will be getting up early."

Stiles smirked, "' _Getting up_ '? I'll bet."

Sean turned bright crimson, "I didn't mean it that way! I doubt anyone would notice if I scoot a few feet away..."

"Can you memorise all of the different kinds of cats? I mean, when they're singing about 'hypothetical cats, clerical cats, Rabbinical cats, metaphorical cats, parasitical cats' and on and on."

"Oh, you mean ' _Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats_ '?" Sean shrugged,

 _"Practical cats, dramatical cats,_

 _pragmatical cats, fanatical cats,_

 _oratorical cats, Delphic Oracle cats,_

 _skeptical cats, dispeptical cats,_

 _romantical cats, pedantical cats,_

 _critical cats, parasitical cats,_

 _allegorical cats, metaphorical cats,_

 _statistical cats and mystical cats_

 _political cats, hypocritical cats,_

 _clerical cats, hysterical cats,_

 _cynical cats, rabbinical cats._

Of course, it's easier to remember when you're not on stage in front of a crowd."

" _Parasitical_ cats? That's not very flattering."

"I didn't write the lyrics."

"You just know them by heart. How the Hell do you do that?"

"The same way you and I know who Amanaman is and who his puppeteer was."

"Amanaman was the Amani headhunter/bounty hunter in Jabba's palace and Ailsa Berk was the puppeteer, though she was credited as a 'Mime Artist'." Stiles replied instantly.

"What's 'pedantical' mean?"Liam asked.

"Pedantic refers to people like me and Stiles, who pour over every little detail of something. Like people who take a movie and view it frame by frame looking for mistakes. Then we go into long detail talking about it to people who don't really care." Sean explained "Like people who can tell you the exact position of every actor in a film by minute _and_ second."

Brent smirked, "You mean people without lives."

"We prefer 'Obsessive Compulsive'." Stiles replied.

"Like Sean and cleaning."

"Exactly."

...

"I understand you are interested in the role of Pouncival, Mr. Walcott?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why not Mistoffelees?"

"I - Well, I like Pouncival more as a character, and his part requires a lot of gymnastic skill, while Mistoffelees does far more complicated ballet movements. I'm always trying to surpass myself in gymnastics. I'd also get a chance to make people laugh." Humor was the last thing most people reacted with when they saw Sean, pity was the usual response.

"You do realize it's actually very difficult to deliberately fumble relatively easy moves and perform falls without appearing to do so, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am, I do."

"It may not look it, but this is a very difficult role, extremely physically demanding. You will almost certainly suffer some minor injuries."

"Yes Ma'am, I know. All of the roles are demanding, and injuries happen often. That is part of gymnastics, too, you _will_ get hurt at times."

She nodded in agreement, "Alright, show me what you can do."

Sean poured himself into the role, leaping, tumbling, prat-falling, somersaults and staged 'accidents', with the occasional boyish grin or childish pout. Miss Grant was impressed with his acrobatic talents, though his dance skills needed practice. That could easily be arranged, of course. "Could you sing for me? I know the character has only one solo line, but he's part of a chorus and has to be able to sing."

 _"There were dogs out of every nation_

 _The Irish, the Welsh and The Dane_

 _The Russian, The Dutch, the Dalmatian_

 _And even from China and Spain_

 _From the Poodle, the balmy Alsatian_

 _And the Basset who howls on the train._

 _And to those that are frisky and frollicle_

 _Let my meaning be perfectly plain._

 _That my name is Little Tom Pollicle,_

 _And you better not do it again!"_

He had a good, strong voice, "You do realize that the lines ' _To those who are frisky and frollical, let my meaning be perfectly plain_ ' are sung by Munkustrap, solo."

"Yes ma'am. I just didn't think it would sound right without it."

"Thank you, I'll let you know when I've made my decision."

Sean sat through the rest of the audition, watching his classmates try for a part. Predictably, most of the boys, and one girl, were vying for the role of Mr. Mistoffelees. Let them have it. If he won Pouncival, learning the 'Beetle Tattoo' alone was going to be murder, he couldn't see himself gaining enough ballet skill in under a year to play such a demanding, and high-profile, role as The Magical Mister Mistoffelees.

When Alex's turn came Sean was utterly blown away. The Goth boy didn't speak much in class, didn't draw attention to himself, other than his hair and clothing, of course. Who'd have guessed he knew ballet? _Professional_ level ballet.

Sean joined everyone in standing and applauding.

He realized then that he didn't have to worry about being chosen for Mistoffelees.

...

Mr. Walters sighed, "It's a shame Sean's voice will be hidden behind the chorus."

"We can give Pouncival a solo line or two during ' _Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats'_ or, perhaps, ' _Growltiger's Last Stand._ ' Besides, I'm pretty sure his voice will carry pretty strongly in the chorus." Miss. Grant replied.

"Perhaps. Sean is always so quiet, so... _Timid._ I'm amazed he signed up for drama class at all."

"I'm glad. More cats means more voices. More activity on stage. Sean would make an excellent Tumblebrutus, don't you think?"

"Yes, he would. In fact, he may be more suited to the role, but you already have a perfectly fine Tumblebrutus and he has his heart set on Pouncival."

"Did you notice that he seemed to know the lines by heart?"

"Yes. Unusual, but he's probably heard them enough times to recite the entire musical himself."

"That Alex Cross. I've never seen moves like that, outside of professional ballet productions. And Kira is a skilled martial artist and dancer. You've brought me an impressive cast. I just hope they can handle the stress."

"Let's just hope they survive. Beacon Hills is, in the words of Principle Landry, A 'death trap', look at what happened to the Walcotts. It's a miracle Sean even is alive. And I'll never forget that horrible incident with the piano wire..."

...

To be continued...

...

Notes

The song Sean sings part of for his audition is part of ' _Of The Awful Battle Of The Pekes And The Pollicles (Together With Some Account Of The Participation Of The Pugs And The Poms, And The Intervention Of The Great Rumpus Cat)_ ' After the line, ' _Let my meaning be perfectly plain_ ' Pouncival (or whoever is at the head of the line of 'Pollicles') is no longer singing because Munkustrap causes him to fall on his face.

I'm not trying to lessen the importance or difficulty of the role of Pouncival. The actor playing Pouncival/Carbucketty usually is required to have a great deal of skill in ballet, as he's often the understudy for Mistoffelees, and the role itself demands a great deal more dancing than I imply here. It's a very difficult role to play, but this is a school play, with amateur performers. They haven't been able to find many understudies, either. If Alex gets injured, they'll have a hard time finding another Mistoffelees, as Sean can't fill the role, he just doesn't have the training or skill to perform his ballet movements.

Several actors who played Mistoffelees, including Jacob Brent from the film production of _Cats_ , performed Pouncival or Carbucketty first.

I use the name Pouncival simply because it is more familiar to me than Carbucketty.

Amanaman is the tall, yellow and green creature with long arms holding a staff with several shrunken heads. He is only seen in a few quick shots in Jabba's Palace, (such as when Jabba points to Han Solo's carbonite frozen body hanging on his wall), in _Star Wars :_ _Return of The Jedi_. I call Amanaman 'he' but his people, the Amani, are descended from planarian worms and may be hermaphrodites or asexual.


	40. Chapter 40

Survival

Chapter 40

Lying Foxes and Perverted Cats

...

Warning, this chapter contains mild profanity, a lot of sexual references and Kira-bashing.

Viewer discretion is advised.

...

As they waited for class to begin, Kira took Sean aside.

"Sean, I want to ask you a question."

"Okay."

"You're Liam's friend, Why has he forgiven Scott and Stiles for kidnapping him, but still hates me for tricking him?"

Sean sighed and rubbed his nose, "I think I know, but you won't like the answer."

"I'd still like to know."

"It's not so much that you tricked him but _how_. He's a fifteen year old, unattached boy in a new school and a hot girl comes up and asks him on a date."

"I invited him to a party, not on a date."

"Trust me, I'm a guy. To _us_ that's a date. He's a handsome, talented athlete, very young, a bit cocky and naive, so he doesn't question it. Then he finds out it was all a trick and has one of the worst nights of his life. Plus you tie him up and you and Scott make out right in front of him. How do you expect him to feel? Scott and Stiles scared him, but you played him and hurt his pride and his, well, sense of masculinity. I know he's a virgin, as far as I know he's never had a girlfriend. The first girl in a new school who shows interest in him is just using him. And to be crude," He blushed a little, "He probably was hoping for _something_. I doubt he'd go 'all the way' on a first date, or even a longer-term relationship, but he didn't even get a kiss. So he resents you for using him, for playing with his emotions and for making him watch as you and Scott played together. You humiliated him in front of the entire pack." His eyes narrowed and he looked over Kira's shoulder, "This is a _private_ conversation, Ian."

Ian held up his hands, "Okay. I was just wondering if you two were an item now."

"No." They both said rather forcefully.

Kira growled, "And if you heard any of our conversation, and people start talking, I _will_ hunt you down and kill you, _horribly_ , understood?"

Ian nodded his head and rushed away.

"So, how do I make it better?"

"I can't help you with that. I've never had a romantic relationship. I just know that we guys have feelings too, and you hurt him."

She sighed and shook her head. "Thanks, Sean." She stopped for a moment, "Sean, what do you think about what happened?"

His voice grew a bit hard, "I think it was cruel, especially you hooking up with Scott while Liam was chained up. He had to be caught before he changed, but that was probably the worst way you guys could have done it."

"You don't like me much, do you?"

"I didn't say I didn't like you, I just said that you were wrong in the way treated Liam. So were Scott and Stiles -."

Before anything else could be said the bell rang and everyone rushed to their seats.

...

"And the role of Mr. Mistoffelees will be going to Alex Cross..."

There was no surprise there, and little jealousy, everyone knew he was perfect for the part.

Alex, for his part, remained fairly subdued, though he was clearly happy.

"Sean Walcott, you'll be playing Pouncival..."

"Thank you, ma'am." Sean had a ridiculous grin on his face.

"You're welcome. Kira, you will be playing Etcetera."

Kira buried her face in her hands. Etcetera, the incredibly annoying kitten who screamed and shrieked every time Rum Rum Tugger was nearby. Was this Karma punishing her for insensitivity to Liam?

"Ian, you will be playing Victor."

"Is Victor the same as George in this production, or a separate cat?" He asked.

"He's a different cat, mainly chorus, dance and swing. We already have a George and the Rumpus Cat costume is fitted for his body. You'll get to be out front some of the time, though."

Ian nodded his understanding.

As they went through the rest of the class, everyone had a part, mainly unnamed chorus cats or swing cats. Regardless, everyone was excited to be involved in a big production (for Beacon Hills, anyway).

...

As he exited the locker room Liam was suddenly pulled into a powerful bear-hug.

"Sean! Are you crazy!" He whispered loudly, looking around to make sure none of his friends were watching.

"Probably," He admitted, releasing his friend, "But I got the part!"

A big smile broke onto Liam's face, "Congratulations!"

"Oh man... This is great. I still can't believe it!"

Stiles and Scott exited the locker room and saw the two grinning like idiots.

"You got the part!" Scott shouted, rushed over and hugged him shamelessly.

"Yeah! And Alex is Mistoffelees! You should see him, he's incredible."

"What about Kira?" Scott asked.

"Uh... She's Etcetera."

Stiles broke out laughing, "Etcetera! The kitten who's always shrieking her head off and fainting when Rum Tum Tugger is nearby? I have to see that! It'll be priceless!"

"It's not a bad role..."

"She's annoying as Hell."

"So what's new?" Liam stated coldly.

Scott's eyes narrowed, "You've got to get over this, Liam. I can't have my pack hating each other, especially for little things like-"

" _'LITTLE'!?_ " His eyes flashed yellow and his lips twisted into a snarl, "Have you ever had a girl trick you into thinking she was interested in you, lure you into a trap, tie you up and then make out with someone else right in front of of you?" He growled, "When that happens to you, come back to me and tell me how 'little' it was!"

Liam stormed off.

"Liam, get back here!" Scott yelled.

"I told you we needed a tazer for him." Stiles noted.

Sean just shook his head and chased after his friend. He found him sitting against an outside wall, staring up at the sky. He gently put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Liam. Are you alright now?"

"I just need to clear my head, to calm down."

"Take all the time you need."

"What about last period?"

"I hate gym class, too dirty. And you have a medical condition. We couldn't get to the nurse's station, so I'm helping you."

"I'm your excuse for skipping class?" He smiled.

"Pretty much." Sean laughed.

"You know, it's nice to see you happy like this. After everything that happened to you, you were pretty timid and sad when we first met. After the whole 'I'm going to eat you' thing, of course."

"I'm not a social person. But you guys have opened up a whole new world for me. Would you believe I never really had friends before Scott took me in? David was the outgoing one. He had friends and went out while I stayed home." Sean sighed, "I was afraid to leave the house for long, because I couldn't control The Wendigo. Now I have no choice, but I'm adapting. And with you and the others to help me, I've done things I never thought I'd have the strength and courage to do."

He draped an arm around Liam's shoulders and pulled him into another hug. "I know Scott can be an idiot sometimes, but he's a good guy. Being of limited time and even more limited intelligence, they tried the only way they could think of to help you." He frowned, "There's no excuse for the making out part, though. That was thoughtless and wrong."

"At least someone agrees with me."

"Kira came to me in class today. She asked if I knew why you refused to forgive her. I told her it was more than just her lying to you, it was stomping on your feelings like that. I hope you don't mind. I think she feels bad about it, now that she understands."

"Good."

"But hating her will just end up hurting you more. Just put her behind you, it's not worth being bitter for the rest of your life. One day you'll find a girl who is actually interested in Liam Dunbar, the man, not the Wolf. It shouldn't be that hard, you're an athlete, popular, talented, nice, good-looking-"

Liam laughed, "You sound like you want to date me."

"Nope, totally straight."

"A single gymnast and dancer who likes musical theater and has a pet cat named Willow?" He snorted, "And now you're taking drama class and planning on learning ballet? The _Gaydar_ is reading somewhere between Elton John and flamboyant drag queen."

"You little...!" Sean grabbed him by the head and began giving him a noogie.

They both started laughing.

Sean gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes, "Elton John? Really?"

Liam shrugged, "I call 'em like I see 'em."

Sean began to sing _Tiny Dancer_ , but Liam shoved his hand over his mouth, laughing. "You're almost as weird as Stiles."

"Nobody is as weird as Stiles."

...

Liam Dunbar had never thought he'd see the day when he'd be voluntarily sitting down watching musical theater and ballet performed by people dressed as cats. But life is full of surprises. The whole Pack was watching, occasionally laughing or making a dirty joke. A few seemed to be enjoying it as art. All eyes were focused on two characters, Pouncival and Etcetera, who had been pointed out by Sean.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

On screen, Rum Tum Tugger knocked Pouncival and Tumblebrutus down, casually sat on Pouncival's back, straddled him and slapped his ass a couple of times before jumping up to continue thrusting his hips at the female kittens.

"What the Hell was that? That freak just molested Pouncival!" Liam turned to see Sean's face, he was blushing slightly. Not one of the scenes he enjoyed, but the _best_ , for everyone else, was yet to come. As Tuggar sang and Etcetera kept swirling her head in time with his hips, Pouncival gave Bombalurina a rather salacious look, turned around, and began rubbing his backside on her leg as she began to rub him in return. After a moment of groping he rolled away, just in time for Etcetera's piercing, elongated fangirl shriek as Tugger finally shut up.

Everyone looked at Sean in shock and Stiles paused the video, "Let's rewind that, shall we?"

"Do it and I'll rip your heart out!" Kira growled.

"Then I'll eat your chubby corpse!" Sean added.

"I'm not chubby! I just dress in layers!"

Everyone started laughing, even Derek. "I see now why you wanted that role, Sean. But she doesn't seem your type."

"I have to admire him. He's got balls, going for the hottest chick on the yard literally right behind Tugger's back." Stiles added.

"I'm not going to do that!" Sean shouted over the laughter.

"No, you'll just be Tugger's bitch!" Brett was holding his sides as he laughed.

"Man, _I'd_ like to be Tugger's bitch." Mason added dreamily.

Brett immediately stopped laughing, "What, you'd choose that stupid, arrogant, obnoxious, loud mouthed kitten-molester over me?"

"NO!" He held up his hands, "I just think he's hot!"

"Etcetera agrees with you." Stiles said evilly, looking at Kira.

Kira punched him in the arm, hard.

"Hey, that was uncalled for!" He rubbed his arm, "And we haven't even got to _The Mating Dance_ yet!"

Liam was blushing, as was Sean. As the only two virgins in the room, it was a bit of an uncomfortable conversation, especially for Sean.

"Rum Tum Tugger is the most vain, obnoxious, crude, perverted cat in the whole musical." Kira replied, "I would never date an idiot like that." She gave the briefest of glances to Lydia.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Two words, _Jackson Whittemore_."

Sean's eyes widened. He was glad Kira wasn't talking about Aiden. He'd never met either man, but Aiden was dead, and, even though he ate human bodies to survive, it was pretty bad in his book to insult the dead. Especially someone who died for people who didn't even like him and made no secret of it.

"You filthy little sl-"

"Okay, let's just watch the movie instead of tearing each other to pieces." Derek said, his voice firm but calm.

Sean tried to explain, "The musical we're putting on will be different from the movie version. We're having the full versions of the songs, and adding things they took out, like _'Growltiger's Last Stand'_. I will _not_ be rubbing my derriere against anyone's leg, and I'm sure you guys slap each other on the butt all the time in the locker room. And the _showers_."

Stiles huffed, "Yeah, but not when we're straddling the other guy."

"Speak for yourself." Brett looked at Mason and grinned lewdly.

"TMI!" Liam made a gagging noise. He didn't have a problem with his friends being gay, but he didn't want to hear a detailed description of their sexual exploits.

"Okay, we get it." Scott said finally, "Now everyone is going to sit down, shut up and watch the movie."

As the musical went on there were a few more questions and comments, everyone enjoyed Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer's act,

Naturally, during The Jellicle Ball when Pouncival and Bombalurina apparently mated Sean got a lot of cheers and slaps on the back.

"You do know that's not _me_ , right? That's Karl Morgan."

"It's still the same role. Sean Walcott, love-machine!"

Sean face-palmed.

"Why did Plato and Victoria mate on top of Skimbleshanks? That's disgusting!" Liam cringed in horror at the older cat having two young cats use him as a wedding bed.

"What, you've never heard of a threesome?" Brett laughed, "Come over tonight, Mason and I'll teach you how it works."

"Even if I was gay I wouldn't go for a freakishly tall creep like you."

"Aww, feeling sensitive about your size, Shorty?"

 _T Scott was moved to tears by ' _Gus, t_ he Theater Cat_' and and a few hummed along with ' _Skimbleshanks, The Railway Cat_ '. During ' _Macavity, The Mystery Cat'_ , however, some of the straight and bi members of the pack began making cat-calls as Demeter and Bombalurina danced in a very erotic manner. Brett wolf-whistled, just to make Mason jealous and pay him back for his remarks about Tugger.

He was a jealous wolf.

Macavity's return and dance/battle had everyone mesmerized. Bryn Walters seemed to take all of the pent up energy he'd spent mostly in the background as Plato and turn into a wild, aggressive and sensual dance.

"I wish you could dance like that, Stiles." Malia said in a low, seductive voice, "He's like a really sexy, really talented male stripper."

"Oh, you want me to dance and strip for you?" Stiles smirked. "How about tonight?"

"Maybe, if you're good."

"I'm never good. I'm bad by nature."

"Alonzo and Macavity are even hotter than Tugger." Mason remarked, looking his boyfriend in the eye.

 _Oh, so that's how we're going to play it?_

"Did you see the size of the bulge in Tumblebrutus' tights? All the other guys must have had something covering them up, but Tumble is definitely _hung_!" Brett said wistfully, "And Pouncival's unitard really brings out his hot little ass."

Sean covered Liam's ears protectively as the two began a back-and-forth on the physical attributes of various toms.

"Dear God, they're worse than you, Stiles!"

Once again the video was paused.

Mason smiled seductively at Brett. "Next time we do it, let's watch _Cats_ first."

Sean felt nauseous. Liam gently removed his hands from his ears.

"Thanks for the concern, but I've heard this kind of thing before, you know." Liam told the older boy, "After all, I'm Mason's best friend and an athlete. The stories I hear in the locker room would shock a porn star."

Sean turned to the others, "I swear, if you guys act like this during the performance, I'll personally come down from the stage and rip you to shreds. No jury in the world could say it wouldn't be justified." He paused for a moment, "No, I'd wait until the performance was over, _the show must go on_ , after all. Then I'd rip you into unrecognizable chunks and make you into sausages!" He rustled Liam's hair, "Except you, of course. You're a good kid, and I've already hurt you enough." His voice was soft at the last part.

"Good kid? You don't know him very well."

"Shut up and let us watch the movie!" Sean snarled at Brett, flashing silver eyes. He was never, _ever_ going to do something like this again. "Perverted cretins." He muttered angrily, "Why I thought _you_ guys could behave I don't know..."

No one interrupted again.

 _Finally_ they reached the end of the musical.

"Can you do that double cartwheel like Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer?" Lydia asked.

"I've never attempted it. It would take a lot of skill to synch my personal balance with another's." Sean just shrugged, "I _can_ do cartwheels, just solos."

"I like the part where Pouncival ran out onstage and started shaking his hips, trying to be sexy. And the look on his face when Jenny ran him off!" Lydia giggled. "He was adorable. And when he was dressed up like a little Pollicle and swinging his fists at Munkustrap, but couldn't reach him. And then that creep let him fall."

Brett shook his head, "He only said two words in the entire musical. ' _And bright_ '. Sure he was cute and funny, but he didn't get any lines."

"Lines aren't as important to me as the physical parts. Tumbling, leaping, climbing, dancing, pratfalls, somersaults. It will be a challenge, especially that dance during Jenny's song. And you'll hear me. Pounce's in the chorus, and he's out front and center during _The Naming of The Cats_."

Liam cringed, "That creeped me out. All of those cats whispering about their names in a synchronous monotone, like some kind of evil ritual."

"I'm surprised you know what 'synchronous' and 'monotone' mean, pup." Stiles said in fake awe.

"I'm not an idiot, but when it comes to words like ' _Terpsichorean_ ', how am I supposed to know? Who actually _uses_ the word Terpsichorean?" He shot back.

"How are you guys supposed to learn all this in under a year? Between the complicated dances and the songs, it doesn't seem possible."

"This is a school production, they don't expect us to be perfect. You work with what you have."

"So this means you'll have a lot of rehearsals and practice." Scott pointed out, "Between that, regular school work and your gymnastics club, I don't know how you'll work in The Pack."

"Don't forget church." Sean added, "It is a heavy load, and I know I'll get stressed, _a lot_. To tell you the truth, I'm kinda scared. But I joined because I want to get over some of my fears. My duty is to The Pack. I'll probably be pretty tired, but I'll be there. I really don't contribute much anyway."

"Don't contribute much?" Liam said in disbelief, "You saved my life! You caught Garrett and made him tell you where I was! You helped us figure out who The Benefactor was. You found and helped capture Patrick and saved that girl's life. You stopped that lunatic who attacked Derek at _The Jungle_. And you blew up that crazy scientist's machine. And-"

Sean smiled. "Okay, I get it. But most of that was just luck. I don't really... I just don't know. I'm not a Werewolf, but I'm in a Werewolf pack. Where do Wendigo sit among Alphas, Betas and Omegas? Wendigo don't have pack dynamics. I'm honored to be in The Pack, I'm just not sure where I belong in it."

Scott smiled, "You're a Beta. It doesn't matter that you're a Wendigo, Lydia's a Banshee, Stiles is human, I think,"

"HEY!"

"So are Deaton and Mason, and I have no idea what Parrish is. The point is, You don't have to be a Werewolf to be part of The Pack, you just have to be willing to help others, _especially_ pack. You have to be willing to work with us. And you've proven your loyalty to The Pack time and again. You're family now and we're lucky to have you."

Sean blushed, "Thanks."

"What about my role?" Kira asked.

Sean put a hand over Liam's mouth before he could speak. "The screaming is only a small part of the role if you look at it. Etcetera dances just as much as anyone else, she's in almost all of the songs, especially _Macavity_ and-"

Liam was trying to break free, making laughing noises under Sean's hand.

"I think Liam has something to say, Sean."

"Shut it, Stiles!"

"Let the puppy bark, Sean."

"I thought you wanted to patch things up, Kira."

"I changed my mind."

Sean rolled his eyes.

"Are you afraid I'll hurt his widdle feelings? Make him feel like less of a man -"

No one saw Sean move until it was too late. Within a split second he had Kira by the throat and slammed her into the wall so hard the pictures rattled.

" _How dare you_!?" He growled through a mouth full of fangs, "How _dare_ you take what _I_ told you and use it to attack him!?"

"SEAN!"

Sean's head whipped around toward Scott's voice, silver eyes narrowing as they saw that he too had changed form.

"This is between me and the bitch, Scott." Sean snarled, "Stay out of it!"

This gave enough distraction for Kira to give Sean a powerful kick in the gut, knocking him onto a table which broke under his weight. Liam and Derek grabbed him to hold him back as Brett held Kira back.

Kira was gasping for air, Sean had stopped struggling and turned pale.

"What the Hell was that?" Scott asked angrily.

"Kira asked me why Liam didn't like her. I told her what I thought she'd done, played with his emotions. And then she goes and throws it into his face!" He snarled at the Kitsune, "I thought you wanted to stop this, not make it worse!"

"Sean," Liam's voice was a bit strained, "You don't have to fight my battles for me. If that fox wants to be a bitch, let her. If I get angry, you'll know. IED, remember?"

Sean started breathing heavily again. He looked down at the shattered table. It had been there for years, he didn't remember where his parents had gotten it.

"Sean?"

He turned even whiter and started shaking all over.

 _I broke it. I lost control and I broke mom's coffee table._

He knelt down and ran his hands over the splintered pieces of wood.

He could hear the others talking, but had no idea what they were saying.

He started crying.

He picked up one of the table legs, and spoke softly, but not to anyone in the room.

"Mom, I'm so sorry..."

...

To be continued...

Notes

Sean is a long way from being 'cured'. He'll never be fully whole again. He's traumatized for life, and these things will happen from time to time. That doesn't make it any easier for him. Sean doesn't like to curse, but when he's angry, it sometimes comes out.

I don't know why Kira's been such a bitch the last few chapters. I don't really have anything against her, it just comes to me to make her horrible.

Unless you couldn't tell, I don't really like Rum Tum Tugger.

Most people call George 'Admetus' when referring to the film, he's only credited as The Rumpus Cat, so I guess you can call him what you want in his 'civilian identity'.

If you're wondering why I'm using obscure cats like Victor, it's because I think every player would want his or her cat to have a name, so the teachers' have assigned canon names to all of their cats, even the swings and the chorus cats. It's good for morale. Victor is a chorus cat and is also a member of Growltiger's pirate crew aboard The Ratfish during the song _Growltiger's Last Stand_ , which was edited out for time in the film.

It can be traumatizing to see Skimbleshanks' role in Plato and Victoria's mating. I try to blot him out in my memory, but you can't unsee the horror. Therapy might help.

If I haven't said this already, Terpsichorean - 'Of or relating to dancing'.


	41. Chapter 41

Survival

Chapter 41

What to do?

...

"I had to give him a sedative." Deaton watched as Derek carried Sean to his room at the McCall home, Liam and Scott close behind. "It was a bad break. You should schedule an emergency meeting with Dr. Gilman as soon as possible, preferably tomorrow."

"I just don't understand." Melissa said sadly, "When he came home he was so happy. He'd just gotten a role in _Cats_. He was practically jumping off the walls with excitement."

"Sean has always felt responsible for Liam being bitten, and tries to protect him. He was apparently trying to end the feud between Liam and Kira, but Kira used the information he'd given her against Liam. He felt like he'd given her the stick to beat Liam with, and the guilt and anger took over. He attacked her, bruised her neck pretty badly before she managed to kick him away, right on to his mother's coffee table. After losing his entire family, accidentally destroying their possessions in a fit of rage has only made him feel more guilt."

"Why? Why would Kira say things to hurt Liam?"

"He makes no secret of the fact that he still resents her for tricking him with the promise of a date. She's apparently decided to hate him back. Kitsune are fickle, capricious creatures. They can be harsh, unforgiving and cruel. I understand that she also got a role in the musical, a role she hates. She came to the meeting angry, insulted Lydia and then took out her frustrations on Liam. Sean was protecting Liam."

"It's amazing how words can be so powerful as to mean the difference between life and death for some people. I've seen kids come in to the hospital, attempted, and successful, suicides, over cruel and hateful remarks and bullying. Frankly, I'm sick of it, but I'm powerless to do anything except recommend therapy for the ones who survive." She sighed, "Was Sean injured?"

"His abdomen and back was badly bruised and he had some splinters in him, but I was able to remove them and the bruises are already healing."

"What does Kira have to say about all of this?"

"She's badly shaken up, both by Sean's attack and his breakdown. She didn't intend for this to happen of course, she wanted to insult Liam, not drive Sean into a frenzy."

"Her intentions were bad from the start, she wanted to hurt one boy, and ended up hurting another instead." Rafe McCall looked up from his coffee. "She wanted to hurt someone, and she did. I can't feel any sympathy for her."

"You know, she could easily have used her sword to defend herself. We may be being a bit too hard on her."

...

A few hours later,

"It's funny." Sean said, "I was just talking about how honored I was to be in The Pack, then I go nuts and attack another pack member."

He was lying in bed, propped up on his pillows, wearily looking at the pack members around him.

"We're all works in progress." Scott replied, "We all had to learn how to control our animals, especially me. I couldn't be Alpha if I can't control myself."

"I'm afraid the only other Wendigos I know are not that great at control either, though Donovan is a lot more stable than Patrick." He smiled thinly, "Raising a respectable Wendigo is hard."

Liam lowered his head, "I'm sorry. If I hadn't made fun of her part-"

"We were all making fun of different parts. She was just angry about her role. But we all knew that most of the big roles were already taken. It wasn't your fault, Kira and I acted badly, and this is what happened."

"You couldn't help it-"

"I lost control. Like Scott said, we all need to learn to control our beasts. " He closed his eyes, "I don't know how to make this right. I nearly killed Kira."

"You nearly killed me, too. I don't hate you."

"You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, Liam." Willow jumped onto the bed and curled up on his bruised abdomen. Sean began to pet her, "I _wanted_ to hurt Kira."

"I've 'wanted' to hurt Kira lots of times. And Brett. And even my parents. I get angry, and I can barely control it, especially now, as a Werewolf. On the lacrosse field Scott and Stiles have had to drag me away more than once to stop me from tearing another player to pieces because I got mad at him. And I have medication to help me."

"Wendigo aren't naturally aggressive. We're just like everyone else, unless The Hunger takes control. What I did had nothing to do with hunger."

"It had to do with _me_." Liam said, "You feel so guilty about what happened and how I got bit that you want to protect me from everything, just like Scott." He laughed, "Except you didn't kidnap me, tie me up with duct tape and throw me in a bathtub. But seriously, I'm almost 16. I can handle a few insults. I don't need to be babied."

"But you're the Pack Puppy," Sean grinned, "The one we all coo over and tuck in at night. It's tradition."

Liam mocked growled, took off his shoes and shirt and crawled into Sean's bed, wrapping his arms around him and giving an exaggerated yawn before placing his head on Sean's chest. " _Puppy Pile_." Sean moved Willow and rolled onto his side, facing Liam, "I don't know how many people this bed can hold." He wrapped his arms around Liam, who snuggled against his bare chest like a puppy. Both were asleep within minutes. Scott pulled the blankets over the sleeping boys and resisted the urge to go 'Aww'. Derek just smiled as Willow curled up on top of them.

They quietly left the room, gently shutting the door.

After snapping a few pictures for blackmail purposes, of course.

...

The next day was Saturday, so they didn't have to worry about school, and Liam's parents had been told that he was staying over.

Sean was the first to wake, hazily remembering why Liam was nuzzled against his chest. The incident with Kira came flooding back, but he pushed it out of his mind. He'd cross that bridge when he got there, for the time being it was best that all parties cool off and get advice from others in The Pack. He didn't want to wake Liam, so he simply lay there.

How would this affect the musical? Could he still perform with Kira, or would she even want to be near him after he almost strangled her? More importantly, how would this affect their pack relationship? Could this be fixed?

Just how do you apologize for trying to strangle someone?

Liam shifted slightly in his sleep and Sean pulled his warm body closer. Puppy Piles were a great stress reliever, Sean had found. Both boys had problems with their tempers, but so far they'd never directed them towards one another. He hoped they never would.

They were both so emotionally damaged that he didn't want to think of the consequences.

...

Kira lay awake in her bed, cursing her own lack of control and its unintended consequences. She had honestly went to Sean for advice about patching things up with Liam, but the younger boy had an incredible talent for pissing her off. She'd had nothing against Sean, and no intention of using the using the advice he gave in confidence as a weapon against Liam, but the kid was damn smug.

But Sean...

That thing that pinned her to the wall and tried to choke the life out of her didn't look like Sean Walcott at all. His aura was filled with rage, hate and protectiveness. His silver eyes were tinged with with madness. She wasn't certain if he would actually have killed her had she not broken free, but he certainly seemed like he would. In defending herself she caused the destruction of one of the few remaining objects tying him to his former life and murdered family.

She understood that he was protective of Liam, that he blamed himself for the boy's condition. She'd seen him have 'episodes' before, such as when he found out Lydia's grandmother was the one who drove Meredith Walker to insanity. But he hadn't tried to physically harm her, he just seemed to collapse in upon himself.

Not this time.

This time his restraint was gone.

She would not be able to explain the bruises on her neck, she would have to hide them, either with makeup or glamour. Thy would heal quickly, but not before she had to be around other people again.

Everything was spinning out of control.

The stupid trick hadn't even been her idea for God's sake! Scott and Stiles had come to her with the idea, which they'd gotten from that two-faced little bastard Garrett.

But dancing with Scott and being romantic with Liam chained up right behind them had been a bit cold now that she looked back on it. If a guy had done that to her, she'd have killed him. And betraying Sean's trust would be unforgivable if she were in his shoes.

It was so easy to forget that boys had feelings too.

What could she do?

Despite Lydia's advice, she was reluctant (she was _not_ afraid she told herself sternly) to confront Sean or even go near him. Liam already hated her, but Sean had always been friendly to both of them. Now she didn't know what he'd do next time they met. He could apologize, or he could try to kill her again. Hopefully the other boys could talk some sense into him.

She sat up and sat on the edge of her bed.

Sean had been right, the part of Etcetera was not a bad part, it was just not one she liked. It would be like conservative Sean being assigned the role of hyper-sexual Rum Tum Tugger, it just didn't fit. She'd been very childish about it, snapping at Lydia, mocking Liam...

But Sean was no innocent either, despite his generally gentle disposition, he had a dark side. Part of it, most of it, was undoubtedly trauma from his family's murder and his own near-death, some was his guilt over causing Liam to be bitten and changed into a Werewolf. But some of it went deeper than that, to Sean himself. He'd lived an isolated life, with no way to safely express his aggressions, no friends and his training to control The Wendigo was incomplete, though the latter was obviously not his parents' fault. They'd been murdered before they could help him gain control.

That left him a traumatized, socially awkward teenage boy subject to violent rages, panic attacks and a sometimes uncontrollable hunger for human flesh. He certainly didn't want to be a violent person, but life had been unkind to him.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why he got along so well with Liam, they had quite a bit in common.

Though she would have to warn him about her sword...

...

"So let me get this straight," Liam motioned with his fork, "You're playing Pouncival, but your makeup is for Carbucketty, who's the same cat but not the same cat as Pouncival."

"Right. For some reason Karl Morgan was listed as Pouncival in the film, even though he was dressed as Carbucketty. So most people who've seen the film think Pouncival is Carbucketty. They have similar costumes, but quite a bit of difference in the facial designs." Sean nodded over his pancakes, "The roles are virtually the same and interchangeable, and after the film in every other performance where he played the part Karl Morgan is credited as Carbucketty."

"Then who is Pouncival"

"Sometimes Carbucketty and Pouncival are the same cat, all cats have three names, you know. Sometimes they are two separate cats, each causing mischief on stage. But the role was originally called Carbucketty... No, he was originally called Mungojerrie, but Mungojerrie became another cat entirely..."

"So now Pouncival is Carbucketty _and_ Mungojerrie? Is he living all nine lives at once?"

Melissa McCall watched the boys chatter with interest. Liam wasn't easy to talk to at times, he'd become brooding, rude or angry. It wasn't his fault, of course, it was the IED and the emotional trauma of becoming a Werewolf and spending his time fighting evil. That was a lot for a 15 year old boy to handle, and it was good to see him happy and laughing.

"Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer started out as puppets?"

"Hard to imagine the show without their number, isn't it? The song was performed by Mistoffelees for Bustopher Jones as a puppet show. Coricopat and..." Sean searched his memory. "And..." He snapped his fingers, " _Etcetera_! That's it. They'd get into costumes that looked like they were made of junk and perform as Mistoffelees sang."

"I saw on Youtube that the performers run off of the stage and into the audience during the show."

"Yeah, some of us anyway. Tugger will single out some girls and flirt with them, and they find a guy to be the man that's watching them, who doesn't know what a Jellicle Cat is. They kind of get up in his face, fortunately that's not in my role. I might get to run into the crowd and act silly-"

"Sillier than usual?"

"Yeah. Maybe I'll pretend to trip or something if I do..."

"So, is there going to be an actor playing Pouncival playing Carbucketty while you're playing Carbucketty playing Pouncival?"

Sean raised a brow, "Uh, I don't know.

"Carbucketty. I like that name." Melissa said, "I like both names, but Carbucketty is just such an unusual name, even for a pet. Pouncival sounds like a knight's name. Noble and strong. Carbucketty sounds, well, funny. Like a clown or comedian."

"T.S. Eliot combined the name 'Percival' from the Camelot legends with the word 'pounce' to get the name Pouncival."

"Kind of like 'Tumble' and 'Brutus'."

"Then where did _Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell_ come from?"

"I'd presume a fell somewhere..."

"I can't imagine you swiveling your hips like Elvis onstage." LIam chuckled

Sean blushed and rubbed the back of his head, "I guess it's like using a hoola hoop, without the hoola hoop."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. Its just performing, right?" Melissa turned to Liam, "How are things going with you?"

"Great! Despite his attempts to cripple or kidnap me, I'm still better at lacrosse than Scott."

Scott looked up smiled, "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve pup. Better watch your tail."

Melissa shot Scott a look. "How about your non-sports classes?"

"My grades are improving. I'm studying, but it's hard with so many distractions."

"I'd imagine so. Being a teenager is drama enough without being a Werewolf athlete with IED." She looked at Scott, "Yes, Scott, I was a teenager once."

She looked around for a moment, "I forgot that Stiles wasn't here this morning, I was waiting for a 'riding a dinosaur to school' joke."

Sean smiled impishly and tried to imitate Stiles' voice, "Well, they didn't have dinosaurs yet in the Cambrian Era."

They all laughed, even though Scott couldn't remember what The Cambrian Age was.

"Don't forget you have an appointment with Dr. Gilman at noon, Sean."

"I won't."

...

To be continued...

Sean would make an excellent supervillain. Everybody sees him as so nice, sweet, timid and gentle, even when he does do something awful, (which is usually not his fault), he doesn't get blamed or punished. No one would suspect him as a criminal mastermind.

How could he forget Etcetera? Kira's playing the part! Etcetera is an important character and requires a lot of skill to portray, and I'm not insulting her. It's just that Kira doesn't like the character and wanted a different part.

Donovan's father is alive and a Wendigo, but he's a recluse since becoming paralyzed from the waist down.

The Cambrian Era was the age of invertebrates, trilobites, sea scorpions, _Hallucigenia_ and other beautiful beasties. This was long before dinosaurs.


	42. Chapter 42

Survival

Chapter 42

Making up is hard to do

...

"Kira, I'm sorry I tried to strangle you to death and I thank you for not cutting me in half with your sword."

"Eh, sounds too formal." Stiles thought for a moment, "Just use your biggest puppy dog eyes, or would it be kitten eyes? Anyway, look really sad and broken up, and put some emotion into it. Maybe squeeze out a few tears. Chicks eat that stuff up."

"Don't listen to him. Just be genuine, be yourself. Apologize, without any fake drama, and hope for the best."

"What do you know, squirt? You don't even have a girlfriend."

Liam narrowed his eyes, "At least I know enough not to treat them like idiots. Girls don't want to be patronized, they want honesty."

" _Patronized_? Teaching him new words again, Sean?"

Sean shook his head, "Liam knows a lot more than you give him credit for, Stiles." He wrapped an arm around the younger boy and held him as his other hand began tickling him mercilessly. Liam struggled helplessly, squirming from the unexpected attack and laughing.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Will you two get a room?"

"I have to agree with Liam." Melissa walked into the room, and Sean ceased his tickle torture on said boy, who growled playfully at him, "We can tell if an apology is sincere or not, and if you intentionally try to fool Kira you'll only make her mad." She walked over and mussed both boys' hair, "Besides didn't Lydia say Kira wanted to apologize too?"

"Should I wait, or should I apologize as soon as possible?"

Melissa considered that. Normally, she'd say to simply apologize as soon as possible, but he was apologizing for trying to kill her, which would leave anyone shaken and upset.

She might be afraid to see him.

"Why don't you call her. Ask how she is if she's alright. If she's ready to see you, apologize personally. If not, apologize over the phone, then again when she's ready. Either way, make sure she knows you feel guilty about what happened and want to make it right."

"Thank you." He smiled, pulled out his phone, and walked to his room, not that any Werewolves in the house wouldn't be able to hear him if they wanted.

...

Sean's hands were shaking as he prepared to speak to Kira again.

It wasn't like he hadn't done this before. After all, he'd nearly killed Liam. And Scott. And Miss. McCall.

God, was it really that bad?

"Hello?" Kira's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hi... Kira. It's me, Sean. I... I wanted to make sure you were alright after... After what happened. I'm really sorry about that. I need to get my anger under control somehow, so that I don't hurt anyone, because I don't want to hurt anyone, but I get so angry. But that's not an excuse for doing what I did and God I sound like one of those abusive boyfriends from a _Lifetime_ movie and-"

"Sean, calm down. One Stiles is enough for any pack. I'm not angry at you. I was acting selfish and mean because I didn't get the part I wanted and took it out on Liam. But you were right, Etcetera is a good part. I'm sorry I used you to hurt Liam. And tell Liam I'm sorry too." She paused, "Boyfriends?"

"That's not what I meant. I mean, you're attractive and everything... I was just referring to how some people keep hurting others, apologizing, then hurting them again. I don't want to be like that."

"Don't worry, you're not an abusive douche-bag like that. If you were, I'd set you straight pretty quickly."

Sean laughed, "I bet you would! You could take me easy. I mean, in a fight..."

"Just keep that in mind."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Can I talk to Liam?"

"Sure." He looked toward the door, "Stiles, I know you're there. Go fetch Liam for me."

Stiles let out a scornful 'Arf!' before walking off.

"Good boy!" Sean called after him.

...

"Liam?"

"Kira." Liam's face was stolid. He still hurt over what she'd done, but it wasn't her idea.

"I'm sorry I tricked you, manipulated your feelings. I didn't think it would mean so much to you. And I certainly didn't want to hurt you."

"I know it wasn't your idea, that Scott and Stiles put you up to it. And it's not like I'm not angry with them but I owe them so much... And what hurt the most was seeing you and Scott together after you chained me up. I thought you actually liked me, you know?" He swallowed hard, trying to fight his temper.

"That was... Stupid. Beyond stupid. It was cruel and thoughtless. I don't know what came over us, over me. I even tempted Scott to wolf-out on the night of the full moon. I hadn't been drinking, so I can't use that excuse. I was just horney, and I didn't even think about you."

There was a slight growl on the other end of the phone, then Sean's soothing voice, "Liam. just calm down."

After a moment Liam came back. His voice was somewhat cold.

"Yeah, that was cruel and stupid. But if Brett can forgive me for what I did to my coach's car, I guess I can forgive you."

"I can't go back in time and undo it, Liam. I can't change the past. All I can do is say I'm sorry."

Liam turned off the volume on the phone and turned to Sean.

"I don't know if I can forgive her for being with Scott right in front of me like that. I want to, but I just can't."

Sean put a hand on his shoulder, "If you want to forgive her, in a way, you already have, right?"

He went back to the phone and turned the volume back up.

"Kira. I don't think I can forgive what you and Scott did at the boathouse. I want to, hopefully I will. But right now, I just can't do it."

"I don't blame you." Kira said sadly, "If my date did that to me, he'd need surgery to get my shoe out of his ass."

Liam laughed softly. Then his voice turned grave. "I can't forgive you right now, but I'll try to keep from dwelling on it."

"I know this is probably the wrong thing to ask, but have you forgiven Scott for that?"

There was silence for a moment, "No. No I haven't. I owe him my life many times over, and he's my Alpha. But I still can't forgive him for doing that to me. It's funny, I can forgive Sean for trying to eat me, I can forgive Scott and Stiles for kidnapping me. But I can't forgive him for making out with the girl I thought was my date."

...

Downstairs, Scott McCall put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Scott?" Stiles asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm an idiot. I can't get anything right. I did everything wrong with Liam, I failed him in so many ways. If I'd just talked to him, none of this would have happened. We wouldn't have all of this bitterness and hate in The Pack."

"He wouldn't let you talk to him, he ran away every time we came close to him."

"I'd bitten him, kidnapped him, tied him with duct tape and put him in my bathtub! We told him he was probably going to die or become a Werewolf! What the Hell did we expect? Then I had Kira set him up, chained him up and made out with his date!" He stood up, "He can't forgive me for being with her, Stiles. He can't forgive me any more than he can forgive Kira. He has to keep in line because he's my Beta, that's the only reason he doesn't treat me like he treats Kira."

"You do know he can hear every word you're saying, right? Wolfie Super Powers?" Stiles pointed upstairs.

"I'm a sorry excuse for an Alpha, Stiles." Scott stood and headed for the door.

"Scott, don't-"

But Scott was already gone.

He heard feet coming down the stairs and turned. Liam was downstairs, holding a cell phone, clearly upset. A confused Sean was standing nearby.

"Scott heard everything." It wasn't a question.

The trio headed out the door without another word in pursuit of their troubled Alpha.

...

"So, do you want Liam to live with the guilt that he drove his Alpha away?" Derek Hale was leaning against a fence, his arms crossed, "You intend to tuck your tail between your legs and drown yourself in self-pity?"

"None of this was ever supposed to happen!" Scott shouted at the former Alpha, "I was never supposed to be bitten by Peter! Everybody would be better off without me!"

"Hmm, let's see. Sean would have killed Liam, and The Mute would have killed Sean. The Deadpool would probably still be in effect, meaning Lydia, Isaac, Kira, Brett, Satomi's pack, every supernatural in Beacon Hills, myself included, would most likely be dead. The Darach would have succeeded in her murder spree. Peter would still be a murderous beast, The Alpha Pack would have claimed control of Hale territory, until the Darach or bounty hunters killed them." He cocked his head, "Yeah, that sounds like a great world to me. Everyone would be happily dead."

Scott looked away and saw Stiles, Liam and Sean headed toward them.

"Here are some of those poor bastards who are still alive because you're such a terrible Alpha. It's a shame they might actually have a chance to grow up and be happy because of you."

Liam stepped up, "Scott, I-"

"I know. I also know I never apologized. Kira might not have been your 'real' date, but I shouldn't have rubbed it in your face. I know you can't forgive either of us for that, but I am truly sorry."

"I didn't say I'd never forgive you. I said I couldn't forgive you yet. I want to, it's just still too painful. I owe you so much, it would be stupid and ungrateful to hold a grudge against you. You and the others are all like my family. I don't hate any of you, not Kira and certainly not you. Compared to everything I have, and everything I've been given, it's nothing but a stupid little fight."

Scott smiled a bit.

"Now come inside before someone sees your ugly face and reports a monster in the area."

"You little-" Scott grabbed Liam and began giving him a noogie.

...

Drama class had changed to accommodate the new situation. There would be tap dancing lessons, ballet lessons, gymnastics and acrobatics (much to Sean's pleasure) and other necessary skills to perform in a high-action musical like _Cats_. They'd eventually move to the college drama building to practice with the rest of the performers.

As he stepped into his first ballet lesson, Sean could swear he heard David laughing. He had to admit, the unitard did look a bit ridiculous, but at least it wasn't one of those sheer ones that basically left the poor guy naked on stage.

 _Who the Hell made those shameless things, anyway?_

He saw Kira over near the other girls and walked over in an as non-threatening manner as possible. Several of the girls looked him over with approval and he felt his cheeks heat up, causing them to giggle a bit.

"Kira, do I really look as ridiculous as I feel?"

"Sean, you wear unitards all the time for your gymnastics classes."

"Yes, but they aren't held here!"

"I think you should wear them more often." One of the other girls remarked. "Maybe just the bottoms, though."

More giggling.

 _Oh Lord, why couldn't I have been born ugly?_ Sean rolled his eyes Heavenward.

Thankfully, Stiles was no where near the drama building to crack jokes at his expense.

Though Ian was clearly enjoying the view.

...

Sean was picking up the movements about as well as everyone else, but his synchronization with the other dancers was difficult for him. He still wasn't completely used to being around people, much less moving in perfect time with them. Still, it was only his first day. He could track their movements well enough, but getting into 'the groove' so to speak was surprisingly difficult. Of course, he wasn't the only one having this problem, and he was resolved to beat it. He'd overcome so much, he wouldn't let a dance routine stop him.

...

Sean decided to stay after school and watch the lacrosse team practice, as most of The Pack were on the team. The young Wendigo was sitting next to Josh Diaz, who was watching Danny with a dreamy expression on his face, and a reptilian named Ray Habashira, who was on the football team. Beacon Hills had to be the only town in America where lacrosse was bigger than football, so his exploits weren't as well-known as Scott or Liam's, though he was no less talented in his chosen sport. Ray had a disconcerting habit of flicking his tongue out, something he evidently hadn't gotten full control of yet. Sean didn't really know him, though he was said to be the best quarterback Beacon Hills had ever seen. He was built similar to Brett, freakishly tall, broad shouldered, but he was rather gangly where Brett was a solid wall of muscle.

"Hi. Ray Habashira, right?"

Ray looked at him with deep green eyes, "That's me. You're Sean Walcott. I guess we all have something to hide, don't we?"

The meaning was clear, they both had recognized the other's secret.

Sean laughed, "Don't worry, I don't bite, much."

Ray smiled, "And I have absolutely no interest in conspiracies to take over the world."

"Couldn't do any worse than the current crop of lunatics."

"You think this is bad? If you're looking for tyrannical, parasitical madmen running a country, look at North Korea." He shrugged, "Japan is close enough that if what's-his-fat-face and his pack of Killer Clowns decide to start firing rockets at us, it would get real nasty real quick."

"Kim-Jong Un? I think he was raised that way, his father was a megalomaniac weirdo, his grandfather was a megalomaniac weirdo... What a messed-up family. Like the Kardashians with nuclear weapons."

They both broke out laughing wildly, earning a few odd stares.

"I bet the girls would be worried about breaking a nail pushing the button!"

...

Sean couldn't help but notice that Liam kept shooting brilliant smiles toward a girl in the bleachers. He couldn't remember her first name, but her last was Romero.

He smiled, _So, the puppy's got a crush? Cute. Maybe now he'll get over the whole Kira thing..._

As practice went on Liam stopped to _slowly_ pull of his shirt, it was painfully obvious he was trying to impress the Romero girl. She made a 'whatever!' face, but didn't look away.

"We're here for lacrosse practice, Dunbar, not for picking up girls." Coach Finstock yelled, and Liam turned bright red with embarrassment. The girl giggled and he smiled again before turning back to the game.

"Aww. _Puppy Wuv!_ " Stiles snickered.

Stiles and Brett were laughing hysterically and Scott couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Liam just glared at them for a moment, then resumed practice.

"Hey, you hang out with McCall and his pack right?" Ray asked. "I've noticed you always hang out together, and you seem especially close to Liam."

"Actually, I'm a part of his pack. He took me in after..." Sean let the sentence drift away. Everyone knew what had happened to his family, to him. "He saved my life, in more ways than one. And Liam's like a little brother to me. I - You know what I am. I lost control after everything happened with my family. I'm the reason Liam got bit. Scott was saving him from me. When I came to my senses I did everything I could to atone for that, and it turned out we get along great when I'm not a ravenous man-eating monster and he's not an enraged Werewolf."

Josh looked at the pair curiously. They'd forgotten he was sitting beside them, "I thought you were a Werewolf like the others."

Sean's eyes widened in surprise, "How did you-?"

"Danny."

"No. I'm not that lucky. As for what I am, it's better you don't know."

...

To be continued...

Notes - Ray Habashira is based on Rui Habashira from the Anime/Manga _Eyeshield 21_. Rui is a quarterback for an 'American football', (as in not soccer) team called The Zokugaku Chameleons. He's a juvenile delinquent and has several lizard like characteristics and mannerisms, including a long, thin tongue.

Ray is a Japanese immigrant and quarterback of the football team. He's also a Reptilian, a race of lizard-like people descended from certain dinosaurs, such as velociraptors. Needless to say, he's strong and fast. He can hide his appearance like many other non-humans, but he just can't help himself from flicking that tongue out.

Either Sean or Stiles told Danny that he was a Wendigo early on, but Danny either forgot or decided not to tell anyone.


	43. Chapter 43

Survival

Chapter 43

Liam has a Crush!

...

Sean waited by the lockerroom until Liam came out.

He grinned mischievously at the younger boy, "So, who's the pretty girl, Romeo?"

Liam blushed and smiled shyly. "Her name's Hayden Romero. We used to go to school together before we moved lived in Beacon Hills, she beat me up a couple of times."

Sean cocked a brow, "Sounds like love to me..."

"Well, I accidentally gave her a black eye in elementary school, she stepped into a fight with me and another boy. She gave me _two_ black eyes in return."

"Kids these days and their funny ideas of romance." Sean shook his head.

"She used to hate me. But I think I'm winning her over."

"So, you're in love with a girl who beats you up and hates you?"

Liam rolled his eyes, "No. She doesn't hate me anymore. And she hasn't beaten me up since elementary school."

He jumped as a hand groped his backside. Liam whipped around, snarling, baring his claws and fangs, his eyes yellow.

"I take it this means you're off the market?" Brett smirked, "And me and Mason were hoping for a three-some one day."

"Don't touch me!" Liam snarled.

"What? You have a cute little butt. It's just begging for attention."

Liam growled again and Sean pulled him away, "Please keep your hands inside your own space at all times, Brett, or you may just lose them."

Brett held up his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay. Do not touch. Got it."

...

"Can you believe that guy!?" After stowing his lacrosse gear Liam got into the passenger's side of David's car.

True Sean drove it now, but it would always be David's car.

"Sadly, yes." Sean said succinctly.

"I would have ripped his throat out."

"I don't think either of us can reach that high. Brett is freakishly tall, after all."

They both laughed.

It was a nice sound.

Sean nudged Liam playfully with his elbow. "So, tell me more about this dangerous beauty."

Liam smiled, "We've known each other our whole lives. We were friends until that incident I told you about where I accidentally punched her and she gave me two black eyes in return. She pretty much hated me ever since. I didn't think I'd ever see her again after we moved to Beacon Hills, but her family moved here a few weeks ago. At first she wouldn't even look at me except to insult me, but I worked my charm on her."

Sean's lips curved into a small smile, "So, now she tolerates you instead of wanting to beat you to a bloody pulp?"

Liam gave him a funny look. "I never thought of it that way. But you saw the way she was looking at me during practice, right?"

"A lot of people were looking at you during practice. I think Josh even took his eyes off of Danny for a second when you took off your shirt. It seems you're passing from 'cute puppy' stage to 'sexy wolf' stage." He smiled again, "My little brother's growing up. But you'll always be that little puppy to me."

"Should I be worried?"

"Possibly. Big brothers almost always find ways to mess with their little brothers' lives. But I know better than to intentionally make you angry."

It seemed so surreal, riding his late older brother's car with a boy he considered his little brother. He wondered what David would think of him now. Practicing ballet, preparing for a role in _Cats_ , 'adopting' a little brother, running with a pack of Werewolves and fighting evil.

The world was one weird place.

"And I know better than to make you angry. I've seen what you can do."

 _You only saw part of what I'm capable of. You never saw the dead deputy with his intestines ripped out._ Sean thought sadly, "Yeah, but just so you know, I don't make a habit of throwing kids off of buildings."

Liam would normally respond with ' _I'm not a kid!_ ', but he knew Sean didn't mean it as an insult or to make him feel small or helpless.

"Good. I think you gave me acrophobia."

"Well, I gained nosocomephobia. Fear of hospitals. After everything that happened there, all I see of the hospital is the deputy I killed, The Mute, you hanging onto to the roof for dear life and waking up in the morgue with my family. I have no positive memories of that place, at all. I'm glad we have Deaton to take care of us, I couldn't stand being admitted again."

Liam was shocked. He hadn't really considered that. He knew Sean was afraid of hurting people, and consumed with guilt over forcing Scott to turn him, but he hadn't thought of just how many horrible things had occurred to Sean in the hospital. "I don't particularly feel comfortable there either, and my dad works there. But it's not like that."

"We each have our own fears, and our own reasons." Sean turned the wheel, "And you're home."

He smiled and parallel parked so as not to take up the driveway.

"Need a hand?"

"I got it, thanks." Liam gathered his things. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

...

Sean sighed as he drove back to the McCall house. It had been a long day, and the day wasn't even over yet.

He didn't really like leaving Liam home alone, but he was a Werewolf and old enough to fight evil. But he had his own life and his own friends, and possibly a girlfriend.

Still, Sean knew from bitter experience that one and no place was safe. Not home, not school, not the hospital. But with The Deadpool gone, he felt more relaxed, though he wasn't about to let his guard down.

...

When the boys got finished relating their day and separate extracurricular activities, something occurred to Agent McCall as he watched Sean eat dinner, his posture and mannerisms. The boy was very careful, for lack of a better word. Grim might be another. Sure, he gave small smiles and laughs occasionally, but he had clearly not recovered from the horrors of his past. Not that He expected Sean to come in laughing and jumping in joy, (The one time he had seen Sean genuinely laughing and overjoyed was when he got his part in the musical).

"You know, when I was watching that movie I noticed something about Pouncival I thought was interesting." Rafe stated over dinner, "No matter how many times he fell or got knocked over or embarrassed, he always held his head high, stood proud and had a smile on his face."

Sean pondered that. Whether as Pouncival or Carbucketty, the character had an irrepressible spirit, he was always cheerful and eager to be around his friends. Sean, on the other hand, rarely gave more than a small smile unless he was with The Pack, especially Liam. He certainly wasn't cheerful. It was something he needed to work on, both for the part and for his own good.

"You're right, Mr. McCall. I need to work on that." He smiled thinly, "Though it might just be easier to actually turn into a cat.

"Don't say that! I've seen you happy. We know it's not going to be easy for you to get your life back to anything resembling normal." Melissa's voice was kind but firm. _Motherly._ "If you need to talk to any of us, you know we'll listen. We'll do whatever we can to help."

"I know. And I'm grateful, but there are some things we just can't change. I have to learn how to live again, my old life is gone. This is my new life, and I hope to make the best of it." He paused for a moment, "I've never been outgoing, and I don't have much experience with people. But, thanks to you, all of you, and The Pack and school, I'm starting to get more used to being part of a group. To having friends... A new family."

"Yeah, you're great with Liam, and you get along with the rest of us pretty well, even Derek. Well, except for the Kira incident."

"I'd rather not talk about that, Scott. I want to just wash it away. The past is dead, there's only the future."

...

"I'd _love_ to talk, Liam." Hayden closed her locker door and turned, "But I have to write a report on the socio-religious implications of the fall of The Byzantine Empire."

"That's easy. It was a major victory for Ottoman Turks and Islam, a huge defeat for Christendom and it effectively ended The Eastern Roman Empire. The capital city of Constantinople was renamed Istanbul and was used as a seat of power for The Ottoman Empire, which encompassed most of North Africa, Western Asia and Eastern Europe, including modern day Russia. The trade between the Middle East and Europe allowed for knowledge from Islamic scholars to reach Europe and help end The Dark Ages. Several crusades were launched trying to recover the city for the Roman Catholic church but failed, and the Ottoman Empire endured until the early 20th century, when they made the mistake of allying with Germany during World War I. So, want to get a burger?" Liam asked cheerfully.

Hayden couldn't help but laugh.

So much for that lie.

"You don't give up, do you?"

"No."

"Alright. We'll get a burger. And I won't hit you if you don't hit me."

Liam grinned, "Deal!"

...

To be continued...

The history lesson is, of course, a gross oversimplification. So please don't tell me how horribly I've mangled history, I know already.

I'll get back to the Kira/Liam/Sean drama soon, don't worry about that.


	44. Chapter 44

Survival

Chapter 44

The Date

...

Sean fell on his ass and lay sprawled out dramatically on the floor.

"How does Pouncival not go insane and kill all these idiots who keep knocking him down?" He grumbled. It didn't hurt at all, but it was a bit annoying to be knocked down repeatedly.

"We never do see Bustopher again after Macavity appears..." Ian smiled and helped him up, "Maybe Pounce did him in."

"If I were him, I'd have killed Tugger. It's bad enough to have him knock you down, but then sit on you and spank you? I'd have ripped his throat out with my teeth."

"No more talk of violent deaths, please." Mr. Walters interrupted, "We have enough of that already and no need to fantasize about it." He paled slightly, remembering that Sean had personally witnessed violent deaths far more traumatic and horrific than anyone else in the room. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Walcott. It's just I don't want to upset the other students."

"I understand, sir. It's my fault, I brought it up, after all. I apologize." He brushed himself off, "Pounce is a knockabout cat. He's rough and tumble. He doesn't let anything get him down. Still, I think Tugger goes a bit far."

Walters nodded thoughtfully, "If you're uncomfortable with that scene it can be cut. It's very minor, a lot of fans don't even notice it at all. He could just knock you and Tumblebrutus over and walk away."

Sean gave a relieved smile, "I'd be very grateful for that, sir. I don't like the idea of being pawed."

"Are you implying something, Walcott?" Jonathan Martin, (no relation to Lydia), the student portraying The Rum Tum Tugger asked jokingly.

"Of course not! I'm just not comfortable being touched like that."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Mr. Walters asked.

Sean shrugged, "I didn't think anyone would care what I wanted."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. This is a school musical, not a professional production. Even if it was, _Cats_ is designed to be fluid and flexible. I wouldn't ask you, any of you, to do something you find personally offensive or degrading." He sighed loudly, "If any of you have issues, feel free to come to me or Miss. Grant with your concerns."

Ian looked wistfully at Sean's well-sculpted backside in his tight gym shorts and sighed.

 _Why are the hot guys always taken or straight?_

...

Hayden eyed Liam in amusement, "I didn't think it was possible to eat so many hamburgers in one meal."

"I'm a growing boy-" Liam blushed. _That was a stupid thing to say, I'm a man! I'm almost 16!_ "I mean, I burn a lot of calories playing lacrosse, and Sean has been teaching me some gymnastics moves. You know Sean Walcott, right?"

"Not personally, but I saw him on the news and I've seen him around since he started coming to school, but we haven't talked or anything." She smiled, "You two seem really close."

"Sean's a great guy. We kind of adopted each other. We met at the hospital when I hurt my ankle. I was there when, you know... I actually saw the bas- Creep who did all those horrible things."

Hayden shuddered at the thought of a tomahawk-wielding madman roaming through a hospital to kill some poor kid for money.

"They said he didn't have a mouth. Is that true?" The question would have sounded ridiculous if asked anywhere but in Beacon Hills.

"Yeah, it was. Stiles told me his dad said the guy ate and drank through a tube he put in his neck."

Hayden suddenly felt a bit queasy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean - That's not very good conversation over lunch is it?"

"Not really, no."

Liam could have kicked himself.

"So, you're learning gymnastics?" Hayden offered.

"Yeah. Sean's teaching me all kinds of moves. We're still on the simple stuff, because I'm nowhere near as limber as he is, but we're making progress."

"What made you want to take up gymnastics?"

"Because it's awesome. I didn't know people could physically do some of the things I've seen. I think it might even help me with my lacrosse moves." Liam finished his third box of fries, "Plus, I think it helps us both to have something to do and someone to do it with."

 _That's so sweet!_ Hayden cooed inside, "Yeah, it's not good for people to be alone, especially after having something terrible happen to them."

"Well, he did save my life when _Garrett_ and _Violet_ -" He practically spit out the names, "Stabbed me and threw me in that well."

"Oh my God! I'd completely forgotten about that!" Hayden exclaimed rather loudly. She hadn't been in Beacon Hills during the Walcott murders or Liam's near-death at the hands of Garrett and Violet. So many horrible and bizarre things had happened since then it was hard to wrap one's head around them all. "I can't imagine what that was like."

 _Great, sympathy. I'm not low enough to use that tactic to pick up girls._

"It was really just a scratch, the cold water was what nearly did me in". _And the wolfsbane on the knife._ He thought to himself. "Part of me almost feels sorry for Garrett, locked up in Eichen House, waking up in fear every morning... Part of me. But not much. I've heard people say he got off easy compared to Violet, but they're wrong. He's suffering far worse than he would be in prison."

"Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive them?"

"I don't know." He stared down at the table, "They pretended to be my friends, especially Garrett. I trusted him almost as much as I trust Mason or Sean, and he just stabbed me with a smile on his face, and Violet was cracking dirty jokes the whole time. But I know there are a lot of things I've done that were bad too. Not _that_ bad, but bad."

"Do you have any idea why your name was on that crazy woman's list?" The Deadpool names, except for the murder victims, Sean and Meredith herself, had not been given in the news, but it leaked out anyway on the web.

There were no secrets anymore.

"She's crazy. I don't know if anyone can understand what she was thinking."

Hayden decided maybe it was time to change the subject. Still, it seemed odd, Liam, Sean, Scott, Brett, Lydia, Kira, Stiles... Many of them were from the same clique at the same school, except for Sean who only recently started attending, but was immediately accepted into the group. It was a bit too much for a coincidence, but she didn't want to upset Liam anymore than he was. She'd been insensitive enough already.

"Still hungry?"

"No. Are you?"

"I couldn't eat another bite."

"Want to go for a walk?"

"Beacon Hills has a leash law you know. I could get fined." She teased.

"Just don't go barking at people at we'll be fine." Liam shot back playfully.

She laughed. Despite his temper problem, Liam could be almost charming.

...

"Like this." Ian put his hands behind his head and began rotating his hips, "It's easy."

Sean put down the hula hoop and tried to copy his movements, but his innate shyness got in the way. He finally managed to get a fair swing going, but he was so obviously uncomfortable Ian finally took pity on him.

In a way.

Ian laughed at the embarrassed teen, "You'll never be a go-go dancer, that's for sure. You do remember, Pouncival is a clumsy kitten who copies everybody else and usually gets the hip movements wrong anyway."

Sean's face turned bright red. Of course, now he remembered, he wasn't _supposed_ to get it right. After a moment he managed to get out, "Then why did you let me do this for two hours?"

Ian grinned wickedly, "Because it was funny and you're hot."

Sean glared at Ian, "You're a dead man."

...

To be continued...

Sean's at after-school practice, which is why Liam and Hayden aren't at school.

When Sean first came to audition, he saw the head of the drama department, Mr. Weinberg. Mr. Walters is the drama coach/coordinator. Plus I forgot his name when I wrote the next chapter... Oops...

During Bustopher Jones' song, he knocks Pouncival over with his silver spoon for no apparent reason.


	45. Chapter 45

Survival

Chapter 45

Camping

...

"I can't believe it's been over a month since The Nemeton grew back, and we haven't had a single supernatural problem. The weirdest thing to happen so far is _Liam_ getting a _girlfriend_."

Liam simultaneously blushed and growled at Stiles.

"Beacon Hills is still the murder capitol of America." Derek pointed out, "It's not just supernaturals who kill. Most humans are killed by other humans. Things have been good, but we can't afford to let our guard down."

"He's right. Evil can find you anywhere." Sean Walcott knew that from personal experience, "We have to keep on guard, wherever we are." He paused, "But we can't let it consume us, either. We need to be able to get our minds off of things every once in awhile. I won't live in fear, not anymore. We can be kids. We can have fun, live our lives, and still stay alert to any potential threats."

"Sean's right. I think we all deserve some joy in our lives, we've suffered enough. All of us have." Scott's face lit up, "Sean, you've never been camping, have you?"

"I prefer bathrooms to bushes, thank you. Werewolves are the outdoors types, Wendigo are homebodies."

"C'mon, we've done it dozens of times, and you'd be safe, well, as safe as you can be in Beacon Hills in the forest." Scott smiled again "You'll never know if you like something if you never try it."

"Yeah, you need to take some time off and relax. You're working your ass off between the dancing lessons, gymnastics classes, school and pack life." Stiles added, "You need to get away from all that stress for a while. It's not healthy."

"He's right, you do need a break." Derek stated, "You can stay on my family's land for a few days."

"Hey, maybe we'll get to meet that Connor guy, the Druid watching The Nemeton."

...

"Now you boys be careful-"

"Mom we've done this plenty of times." Scott replied as they loaded their supplies into Stiles' jeep

"Yes, but Sean has never been camping, and he's not a Werewolf, he might get lost." Melissa was concerned about the boy she'd come to view as her son, and was fussing over everything.

"He has superhuman sight and smell, he can follow a trail. He found our house from the hospital just from my scent."

"And if we run into any bears or anything, Scott will give his life for me, right Scott?" Sean smiled and nudged Scott in the ribs.

"You can take care of yourself. I can still feel that kick you gave me the day we met."

"It was night, and I must have hit you pretty hard. Are you sure it wasn't Liam bonking you over the head with the chair? He's small but scrappy."

"You're not that big yourself."

"Jellicle cats are not too big." Stiles sang.

"Jellicle cats are of moderate size." Scott replied.

"Jellicle cats as we said are small." Sean picked up Willow, "I'll see you in a few days, Willow. You behave for Mrs. McCall."

"Meow."

He nuzzled against her soft fur.

"I'll be fine, my Queen."

"Dude, it makes me nervous when you talk to her like that, like you're her pet."

Stiles could have sworn Willow gave him a haughty glare.

As Sean loaded his food into the cooler he noticed something, "Hey, Stiles. Is this _beer_?"

Melissa's jaw dropped and she rushed over as Stiles moved to block the evidence.

"It's _root beer_ Sean, they put it in bottles just like beer." Stiles said defensively as Mrs. McCall pushed past him and pulled out a six-pack.

"I didn't know _Coors_ made root beer." Michelle replied sarcastically.

"Well, they're branching out, exploring new markets. Trying to attract a younger crowd with responsible, non-alcoholic drinks." Stiles was laying it on thick while giving Sean The Evil Eye.

"Can it, Stiles."

"Cans are bad for the environment. I prefer bottles."

"No beer. No alcohol. You're not a Werewolf Stiles, and if even if you were you're all underage. How did you even get this, anyway?"

"I'd rather not reveal my sources."

"Poor John." She shook her head, "How does he manage you?"

"He doesn't. He's totally helpless to stop me."

"Well I'm not. Unload the beer. We have cola in the house."

"Thanks a lot, Sean. Way to ruin the party, and after I was nice enough to invite you."

"He didn't get you in trouble Stiles, you did when you bought the beer." Melissa McCall frowned, " _Party?_ Are the others bringing alcohol?"

"Like I'd snitch-"

Mrs. McCall had Stiles backed up against his jeep, giving him 'The Look'.

"I honestly don't know, I swear! Brett might, or Malia."

"Way to throw your girlfriend under the bus." Scott snorted. His mother turned on him, and he paled.

"If I smell alcohol on you when you come back, I'm going to give you the spanking of your life!"

"Mom, I'm seventeen! I'm too old for spankings!"

"Unless they come from Lydia." Stiles jeered.

Scott growled at him.

"Maybe I should come along, as a chaperone. Derek is way too easy on you-"

"Woah! Mom, you have to work, remember? And you'd be bored to death..."

"I love camping!"

Scott was frantic, there was no way his mother was coming camping with his friends. "Okay, okay! I promise I won't drink!"

"Me too. Not a drop." Stiles put his hand over his heart.

"Stiles, you could swear on a stack of Bibles and be lying through your teeth."

"I'm insulted! How could you accuse me of being a liar!"

"It's not an accusation, it's an observation. And I'll be calling your father to let him know about this."

Stiles grumbled something under his breath.

"What did you just say?"

"I said I had an _itch_!"

"Sean, if he drinks, take a bite out of him."

"..."

...

"What, so you're _not_ doing the spanking scene? I wanted to see that!"

Sean sighed loudly "Stiles, you're a guy, right?"

"Of course, what the Hell kind of-?"

"Wanna' stay that way?"

"Shutting up now."

Stiles was quiet for a record five minutes.

"Have you talked to Donovan lately?"

"Yeah. He's doing alright. The medication and counseling seem to be helping a lot."

"So he doesn't want to kill me and dad anymore?"

"I don't think so."

" _You don't think so?_! Didn't you ask?"

"If he were, I'd know about it. You have nothing to worry about." Sean gave a reassuring smile, "Besides, if anyone wanted to hurt you, they'd have to go through all of us first. I meant it when I said that if I had to choose who to fight beside, I'd choose you."

Scott smiled as well, "Relax, you have the whole pack to back you up. We're always looking out for you, Stiles."

"i know. I just hate feeling so... _Helpless_. Everybody in The Pack has superpowers and I got ADHD and sarcasm."

Scott put a hand on his shoulder, "Batman doesn't have superpowers, and look at him. And he definitely has OCD and PTSD. But he's fought Superman on an even level."

"Yeah, because he has a zillion dollars and access to advanced technology that would make Tony Stark green with envy."

"Well, you have access to a brilliant mind and a dozen superhumans who'd die to save you."

"Don't say things like that. I don't want anyone dying for me, or because of me. I've already caused-"

"That wasn't you. That was an evil fox parasite with no right to exist. You're just as much a victim as any of the others." Sean stated firmly, "And none of us plan on dying anytime soon, but pack protects pack. We each watch out for other. Right Scott?"

"Right. I think you're finally getting the idea of what 'pack' really means." He lay back in his chair, "But we came out here to relax and forget our troubles, not dredge up bad memories. Wake me up when we get to the campsite."

"We're stopping to pick up Baby Wolf first. Hope he brings extra diapers."

"Yeah, Stiles, you'll likely need them." Sean grinned from the back seat.

"Everybody's a comedian..."

...

Derek helped Sean put up his tent, as he'd never done it before. Most of The Pack had opted for sleeping under the stars. Derek hadn't even brought a sleeping bag.

 _I wonder what it's like to be so warm all of the time._ Sean thought to himself, _Must be nice in Winter, and Hell in Summer_. His mind went back to Liam's naked night out on the town. _Monstrous Naked Dog-Boy_. He'd decided never mention it to Liam again, as he found it incredibly humiliating.

"There, all done." Derek wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Thanks, Derek."

"No problem."

Sean began putting his sleeping bag and other essentials into the tent.

"Sean."

He turned to see Liam standing nearby.

"What is it?"

"Can I sleep with you. I mean, in your tent. Not with you like-"

"I know what you meant. And sure. Just let me move some things around so we can both fit comfortably."

"Thanks."

It was actually a relief to Sean, both boys slept better and had fewer nightmares when they were together. Sean didn't want to wake up screaming in the middle of the night in the woods, and he didn't want Liam killing Stiles or Brett or Kira, or anyone, for that matter.

"So, now what?"

"Well, everybody with 'special friends' pairs off and wanders around the woods looking for a place to make out, and we bachelors explore."

"But you have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, but she's not here, so I'm free... That didn't come out right, did it?"

"Not at all." Sean laughed softly. "So, let's explore while it's still daylight."

"Speaking of relationships, what about you and Ian?"

"I'm _not_ seeing Ian. He's been just been helping me with some of my more... _Sensual_ dance moves. Besides, he and the guy who's playing Alonzo hit it off at practice and it looks like a match. Hopefully. He's like a gay Stiles, he has no tact at all."

"One Stiles Stilinski is more than enough for this universe."

"He does think you're cute, too, Liam." He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair, earning a playful growl.

...

Sean and Liam walked through the forest, looking around at the landscape. As spring was beginning, everything seemed to be coming back to life. The sounds of small animals like squirrels and birds singing in the trees filled the air.

"Isn't this better than being stuck in your room?"

Sean gave an exaggerated sneeze, "Ah! All of this pollen is killing me!"

"You love it, admit it."

"Okay, it's nice."

"The Great Outdoors, man." Liam smiled.

"I loved that movie! John Candy was one of the greatest comedians ever." Sean stopped short, "What the-"

A man in a sleeveless t-shirt and blue jeans stood nearby. He had red hair, and his visible body was covered in Celtic runes and symbols.

"Out enjoyin' the Renewal o' Life?" He asked jovially. "I'm Connor, by the way."

"Connor, I've heard a lot about you. Well, what Peter said, anyway."

Connor snapped his fingers, "An' yer... Liam Dunbar an' Sean Walcott. Two Scots and an Irishman meet in the wood..."

"It's funny, I pictured you as wearing brown robes and holding a magic staff."

"I 'ave the robes, but no magic staffs, sorry."

"How did you sneak up on like that?"

"Magic."

The boys weren't sure if he was serious or not.

"Will you be joining us for dinner?"

"I'm not sure _you_ should be the one inviting people to _dinner_ , Sean." Liam whispered.

"As far as I know, S'mores contain no human meat." Sean said casually, "I'm not sure about the hotdogs though..."

Liam made a retching sound. "Gross!"

...

To be continued...

...

Notes -

The lines about Jellicle cats are from one of the songs in _Cats_.

'Jellicle cats are not too big' - Tumblebrutus

'Jellicle cats are of moderate size' - Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

'Jellicle cats as we said are small' - Tumblebrutus, Plato and ?

How did Connor recognize two boys he's never met? As Sean made the international news, almost everyone recognizes him, and Liam is a prominent member of the lacrosse team, which is the official religion of the town of Beacon Hills.


	46. Chapter 46

Survival

Chapter 46

Greatness

...

As they sat around the fire roasted marshmallows and sang traditional campfire songs like ' _Werewolves of London_ ', The Pack felt a sense of togetherness, a bond that transcended race, sex, species and other trivialities.

"A Banshee, a Wendigo, A Werecoyote and 'umans all a part of a Werewolf pack. I 'ave to 'and it to you, you're as open-minded as they come." Connor observed.

"That's what we're working for," Scott explained, "As horrible as The Benefactor business was, it taught us that we have to stick together to survive. It doesn't matter what kind of person we are, we're all people, that's the important thing. No one race is better than another. We've all lost something. Friends, family... All because of hate and people thinking they were superior. We can't afford that kind of thinking. We've lost enough already, suffered enough. So we've pledged to protect everyone in Beacon Hills, Werewolf, Wendigo, Kitsune, Astomi, whatever."

Connor smiled, "I see now why you're The True Alpha. You 'ave a pure 'eart."

"Yeah, but _'Pure'_ what?" Someone snorted.

"It's lucky you have a good heart, 'cause your head is empty is emptier than my wallet." Stiles laughed.

"Great men are oft' perceived as simple, 'till they be proven right."

Scott blushed scarlet at Connor's defense.

"I'm not 'great', I'm just a kid trying to do the best he can for his pack. For his family."

"And for his community." Sean added, "You've got us all prepared to defend Beacon Hills and it's people. _All_ of it's people. When you first laid eyes on me, I was trying to eat your mother. We fought and I nearly murdered Liam. You had no reason at all to help me. You could have called the police or thrown me out into the street for The Mute, but you didn't. You took me in, protected me. You even made me pack. I've never heard of a Wendigo being openly accepted by another race. But you, Mrs. McCall and everyone else made me family." He slung an arm around Liam's shoulders, "It takes a special kind of person to be so forgiving. You even helped me make peace with Liam here."

"Nah, you were just so pathetic I knew you weren't a threat anymore." Liam jabbed lightly at Sean, "And you're a really nice guy, when you're not hungry."

"I think you've all been brought together for a reason. Each of you has something special, something that makes this pack work. Not only work, but thrive. You've beaten so many threats together, faced down Death itself, loved and lost yet you still carry on The Good Fight. I'm proud to be sittin' 'ere with you."

"You make us sound like superheroes."

"Aren't you? You 'ave powers no 'uman 'as, you've defeated 'unters, murderers, monsters and even a demon. If that ain't 'eroic, I don' know what is."

...

After a while, Sean decided to perform a few of his routines he'd learned in drama class, which proved quite entertaining. He was limited in what he could do, however, by the fact that he was in a forest, not on a stage, and he wasn't wearing dance shoes, but he made a good show of it. Soon Kira joined in for a routine and after a while most of The Pack was dancing, although in wildly different styles.

Sean and Kira spoke for a moment and decided to perform one of the songs from the musical, as best they could on the uneven ground. As everyone sat the two performed _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer_ , with Sean adopting a Scottish accent, learned from his father. Despite the fact that neither of their characters participated in the routine, they did an excellent job as the two thieving cats.

By the end of the performance everyone was clapping and laughing. The pair took a bow and sat back around the fire with the others.

Brett smirked, "Hey, Kira, can you do the Etcetera fangirl scream for us?"

"God no! She'd deafen the lot of us!"

Kira playfully elbowed Sean in the ribs as he laughed.

...

At about midnight Connor said his farewells and faded into the forest like a shadow. Everyone began settling down for the night. Liam crawled into the tent with Sean and they wrapped their arms around each other.

If anyone had told him a year ago that he'd frequently be spending his nights with a fifteen year old boy in his arms Sean would probably have killed them. There was nothing sexual about it, of course. They both seemed to benefit from the contact, fewer nightmares and a sense of calm, of peace came over them.

That was part of what it meant to be pack, he supposed.

Sean lay awake for a while, listening to the night birds, the owls and others calling out to one another in the darkness beyond the campfire. It was a beautiful sound, one he'd not heard often living in the suburbs. Which was rather odd, as Beacon Hills was located in a deeply forested area. He wondered how many 'missing persons' had actually just lost their way in the forest rather than meeting their doom at the hands/claws of supernatural hunters. He quickly banished the thought, not wanting to dwell on such morbid things.

"Hey, you two need any _protection_?" Stiles called mockingly from the opening of the tent, "'Cause I brought plenty."

"Go to Hell!" Both boys shouted in unison.

"Ow!" They saw someone, presumably Scott, slap Stiles in the back of the head.

"I say we put something in his sleeping bag," Liam muttered, "Something like a lit match."

"No. There's no need to go that far." Sean responded, "We wait till he's alone, drag him off into the bushes, tie him to a tree and shove poison ivy down his boxers."

"I haven't seen any poison ivy..." Liam grumbled, "Where's all the poison ivy gone?"

...

Derek Hale lay on his back, watching the stars.

He could hear Sean and Liam plotting some elaborate, never to be executed plan of revenge against Stiles and smiled. Both boys were changing so much. When he'd first met Sean, he was an emotional wreck, little more than a timid, frightened shell of a boy who'd lost everyone in life to a senseless act of violence. Liam, on the other hand, had been aggressive, dangerously so. Between his IED and his Werewolf urges, he'd feared the boy would go crazy. It happened sometimes, a new Werewolf, unable to cope with their new existence could become little more than feral beasts, killing everyone around them until they were put down. Or worse, people so enamored with their newfound powers that they embraced The Wolf, willingly slaughtering others for pleasure. But, together, the timid, traumatized boy and the angry, aggressive boy seemed to cancel each other out, finding a strength in the bond that comes from being Pack, even if Sean was a Wendigo, not a Werewolf. Each was extremely protective of the other, in an almost brotherly relationship.

The irony of it was that these two boys who were so close first met when Sean kidnapped and nearly killed Liam in a fit of hunger-induced madness. Sean had then been 'killed' by the same bastard that murdered his family. Waking up in the morgue must have been incredibly traumatic, especially with the fact that his family's corpses were being held there. Sean had run to Scott for help, Liam had been forced to turn to Scott due to his turning. And now they were close friends, brothers, even.

Life could be so strange at times.

At least this time it was a _good_ strange.

Connor was right, Scott McCall was the lynchpin that held everything together. Strong, resolute and kind-hearted, dedicated to his goal of protecting others above himself. His pack was much the same, they bickered, teased, sometimes even fought, but they would each die to save another.

It was _almost_ enough to restore his faith in the goodness of people.

...

To be continued...

Notes-

 _Werewolves of London_ by the late, great Warren Zevon, check it out on YouTube. And no, it's not a traditional campfire song. It's just funny picturing actual Werewolves singing _Werewolves of London_.

Jo Gibb, who played Rumpleteazer in the film version of _Cats_ , is Scottish, but adopted a Cockney accent along with Drew Varley, who played Mungojerrie. Sean is better with a Scottish accent, so he's using that instead of Cockney. His father was Scottish, but he uses an American/Canadian accent in everyday life.


	47. Chapter 47

Survival

Chapter 47

Camping

...

Sean looked up from his hot chocolate to see Stiles crawl out of his tent, scratching himself.

"Are you alright?"

"I think I got into some poison ivy or something-"

Stiles was cut off by Liam and Sean's laughter. Even Derek was chuckling.

He eyed them suspiciously, "What?"

"I think we found where the poison ivy went." Sean chuckled.

"Did you do this you little cannibal?" Stiles demanded.

"We prefer the term 'Anthrovore' to 'Cannibal'. And no, I didn't." _Maybe David's pranking him from the grave... It would be so much like him._ Sean thought wistfully. _Sometimes I think he was part Kitsune._

"You probably got into some poison ivy when you were 'exploring' with Malia."

Sean dug around in his bag until he found a small tube of cream, "This is for the itching, just rub it on, or have Malia do it for you." He tossed it to Stiles.

"Thanks." Stiles moved to head back into his tent, "You're not affected by poison ivy, why do you need this?"

"I want to be prepared for anything." He grinned, "Besides, with you being so clumsy I figured you'd fall into something like that sooner or later."

"Yeah, yeah... It's everybody pick on the human day, isn't it?"

...

The Nemeton looked magnificent vibrant and filled with life and new growth. All of them, even Mason, could feel the energy radiating from the tree. And it wasn't the dark negative energy that had been associated with the Darach or Nogitsune. It was a serene feeling, comforting.

Sean noticed that the areas around the Nemeton burnt when The Scientist's machinery exploded showed no sign of having been damaged. He thought back to that terrible day. He had killed the man, or sent him to a fate worse than death by destroying his machinery and freeing Slender Man. But had he not acted, the man would have absorbed the Slender Man's power, his life-force, or whatever he possessed that gave him some semblance of life. And he would have used that power to enslave everyone. The Scientist was also responsible for those college kids being murdered by his pet serial killer, and the murders he himself committed when he killed his colleagues for mocking his theories.

The last thing he'd seen was the man's terrified, distorted face as he was dragged screaming into the darkness by Slender Man.

And, he'd saved Slender Man's 'life'.

He wasn't sure if _that_ was a good thing or not, given the entity's reputation. But he had killed no one in Beacon Hills, and had helped them, in a convoluted fashion, through his Proxies.

Sean picked up a fallen leaf and turned it over in his hand. He knew that the wood of the Nemeton had supernatural properties, it had held the Nogitsune prisoner for decades and currently held him again. Perhaps the leaves had some abilities as well. It looked quite ordinary, but looks could be deceiving. He sniffed it carefully, inhaling the scent of earth and morning dew and sweet sap. The smell of the forest, the scent of nature.

He looked up at the towering tree in a mixture of respect and reverence.

So much had happened beneath this tree. Deaths, murders, rites and rituals, the sealing of a powerful demon and the summoning of a creature even he had doubted existed.

It a tree could talk, oh what horrors this one could tell.

He let the leaf slip through his fingers and gently fall to the ground.

...

Stiles had gathered everyone for a picture in front of the Nemeton, even the perpetually frowning Derek. After a moment of playful shoving and cheesy smiles, the picture was taken and everyone was heading back to camp.

Sean was already mentally bitching over not having access to a shower, but he kept it to himself. They'd just be this one more night, anyway.

And he had enough disinfectants to clean the entire forest.

It was rather silly, being afraid of germs when almost no natural disease could touch him, but phobias are rarely rational. He was also worried about ticks, he wasn't sure if Wendigo could catch Lymes Disease or any other tick-born illness, and he didn't want to find out.

"I'm starving!" Liam whined.

"We've got plenty of food at camp, you little glutton." Brett snarked.

"I'm not a glutton! I'm a growing boy, I need lots of food."

Brett laughed, "I'd say you have a _lot_ of growing to do, what are you 5'2"?"

"5'6". I can't help it if I'm not a giant like you."

"We'll be in camp in about five minutes." Scott reassured Liam as Lydia handed him a granola bar.

"Thanks."

"Hey, Sean, can you eat things other than meat?"

"I can eat fruits and vegetables and such like anyone else. I just have to eat meat to live."

Scott laughed, "You should see him eat lemons. He eats them like candy. And drinks _straight_ lemon juice."

"So that's why you smell like lemons all the time." Brett remarked, "I thought it was just some kind of soap or shampoo or something."

"Lemons and other sour things help with The Hunger. Weird, but true." Sean shrugged as they entered the clearing and the campsite, "And I'll take any advantage I can get."

Liam tore into his cooler to pull out some snacks while Stiles and Malia went 'to gather firewood', as if they were fooling anyone. Sean pulled a smoked pork cut out of his cooler and stuck it over the fire for a moment to warm it up using a prong as the others gathered their food.

"Eating that much pork can't be healthy." Lydia remarked.

"It's better than the alternative. Besides, my body heals itself, just not as quickly as a Werewolves." He held the meat in the air to cool it a bit, "And I exercise every day and try to eat right otherwise."

"Can't have you not be able to fit into those tights by production time, can we?" Liam grinned.

"I've never seen a fat Wendigo, or a fat Werewolf, for that matter. Something about our body chemistry, our metabolism, I think." Sean grinned back, "Of course, _baby_ _fat_ is a different matter." He reached over and patted Liam's belly. Liam was pure muscle, with abs like steel, but teasing about being the 'baby' of the group often involved his weight.

"I'm not fat. Muscle weighs more than fat."

"I know, I'm just teasing."

Liam sat beside him by the fire. It would be dark soon.

"Got any more of that meat?"

Sean's grin nearly split his face as the others laughed.

"You're asking a _Wendigo_ for meat?"

Liam shoved him playfully.

"Don't worry, it's basically smoked pork chops." Sean pulled another out of his cooler, "It's pre-cooked, you could eat it cold, but it's better hot." He handed him the roasting prong.

"What do you mean _'basically'_ pork chops?"

"I can't remember the exact cut, but they're pork, not long pig."

He watched as Liam tore into the meat like a starving animal.

"Next time I'm bringing meat too..." He mumbled with his mouth full.

...

To be continued...

...

Notes:

The idea of Sean eating lemons to help his hunger is not mine, several other fanfics and the Sean Walcott RP site _Monster's Hunger_ came up with that, and I thought it was cool. Hopefully they don't mind me using the idea, I have no social messaging, so I don't really talk to people outside of FF. _Monster's Hunger_ is an ADULT rp site, not for children.

Long Pig - Human. Apparently we taste like pork.

Fun fact : The word 'Argent' is an archaic word for silver.


	48. Chapter 48

Survival

Chapter 48

...

Dinner

...

Melissa McCall watched as Stiles' jeep pulled up to the curb and the boys began to unpack. She stepped outside and smiled.

"How was it?"

"We had a great time!" Scott said cheerfully as he pulled out an empty cooler.

"I, for one, am looking forward to a nice hot shower." Sean was smiling. "But I enjoyed it. Getting away from everything for a while, I can see why it's so popular."

"No... _Problems?_ " It was obvious that she was referring to panic attacks, night terrors and Liam's IED.

"Only Stiles' snoring."

Stiles grunted, un-amused.

"And Liam eating most of the food. That kid's like a black hole."

"He's a growing boy." Melissa helped pull out a tent.

"Face it, he's as tall as he'll ever be."

"He may just be a 'late bloomer', Stiles."

"There's nothing wrong with being short." Sean added, "Look at me, I'm short, and I do alright."

 _"Alright?_ You're like super-human. You're an acrobat, a gymnast, a singer, a dancer and you speak cat. And you nearly took out Scott-" Stiles paled and covered his mouth, "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to bring up... _That_."

Sean shrugged, "It's okay. It's not like I never say anything that I shouldn't."

Nobody in the group liked to bring up the incident in the hospital, in which Sean, maddened by grief, fear and hunger, had slain a deputy, attacked Mrs. McCall, fought Scott, kidnapped and nearly killed Liam before being stabbed in the back by the freak that had murdered his family a few hours earlier. Sean and Liam would talk about it, to help each other cope with the trauma they'd both endured that night, but it was generally not something anyone wanted to think about.

Melissa wrapped a comforting arm around Sean's shoulders, "All that is the past. We're family now."

Sean pulled Stiles into the hug as Scott joined in.

Stiles tried to squirm out of Sean's powerful grip, "DUDE! Not in public! No hugging in public!"

...

"Hey, Sheriff," Parrish walked into the office carrying a medium-sized box, a box that Sheriff John Stilinski instantly recognized, "What should we do with this? Personally, I say put it in a urinal..."

John sighed. He should have gotten rid of Albert Petrakis', AKA The Mute's, skull as soon as they found it in Simon Altman's hideout.

"Take a hammer and break it into so many pieces God Himself would have a hard time putting it back together. Then flush it down the toilet."

He went back to his paperwork as Parrish took the box and went off to find a hammer...

...

Sean sat in bed, holding Willow close to his chest as she purred contentedly.

His life had changed so much over such a short period of time. Some of it for the better, much of it for the worst. The Pack and the McCall's could never replace his true family, but they were good people who truly cared for him. He'd begun to make peace with the fact that he'd never see his parents or brother again, not in this life, anyway.

But he was alive, and he had people who cared about him, depended on him, even.

People he cared about.

And he still had the production of _Cats_ to look forward too. No way he was going to allow himself to get killed before the performance.

Sean, the Knockabout Wendigo.

He laughed at the notion.

...

The next morning, Sean asked a question he'd been meaning to bring up.

"Why isn't Danny pack?" Sean asked, "I mean, he knows about us, and he helps us out with all of that technical stuff."

"Danny doesn't want to get too involved. Just being our friend puts him in danger, that's the whole reason Ethan started dating him in the first place, Deucalion had ordered Ethan and Aiden to get close to us through our friends, and then kill them. He didn't expect Ethan to actually fall in love with Danny, but he did. And Aiden did care for Lydia, towards the end. That's why they turned on Deucalion and helped us fight The Nogitsune." Scott explained, "While they were dating, Danny was poisoned, not by Ethan or his pack, but he almost died. Ethan was with him the whole time at the hospital... He's been through a lot of suffering just because he's my friend, if he were pack it would be even worse for him. We'd do everything to protect him, of course, I mean, we protect him now, but it's safer to just keep a distance between us."

"I didn't know. I mean, I know Stiles' has suffered terribly, but I didn't realize that Danny had been through Hell like that. Who would hurt Danny? Everybody loves him..." Sean shook his head sadly. He wondered why Ethan and Danny had broken up, but personal relationships were not something he was comfortable sticking his nose into. "I'm glad we have him, though. He helped us with The Orphans, The Benefactor and tracking down The Scientist." Sean smiled, but there was little joy behind it. "Sound like comic book super-villains, don't they?"

"Well, Stiles has always been obsessed with Batman..." Scott laughed, "Are you still eating at Donovan's tonight?"

"Yeah. I want to see how they're doing, and it will be nice to eat with my own people again. Besides, I'm sure Donovan can use the company."

"What about... You know?"

Sean knew that Scott was referring to Donovan blaming Sheriff Stilinski for his father's crippling injury, and his openly stated desire for vengeance, against the Sheriff or Stiles.

"He's... Improving. He's been through a lot, having to take care of his father and everything. He's on medication now, and getting help. I don't intend to bring it up over dinner, so don't ask." He shook his head, "Last time we spoke he said he wouldn't hurt Stiles... But he still blames Sheriff Stilinski for what happened." He shrugged his broad shoulders helplessly, "Hopefully he can forgive him. One day."

...

Donovan's father, Franco, was around Sheriff Stilinski's age, but confined to a wheelchair due to the bullet that left him a paraplegic several years before, and left Donovan with a seemingly undying hatred of John Stilinski. He welcomed Sean with a hug and his condolences. He'd followed the case more closely than most, as he was a friend, a fellow Wendigo and a former police officer.

They were currently seated at a small table in the Donati's modest home, a rather _Interesting_ meal laid out before them.

They were all Wendigo, after all.

"Have you been eating well?"

"Yes." Sean replied, "We... _I_ still have the stock in the freezer at home." So many things sounded wrong with that sentence to Sean, his 'stock' were human corpses, his home was where his family had been slaughtered, a place he rarely returned to unless he needed food.

"You are probably the only Wendigo on earth who is part of a Werewolf pack." Mr. Donati noted, "You really found some good people, didn't you?"

"The best. Even though I attacked Mrs. McCall, fought Scott and kidnapped Liam because of The Hunger..." There was more than a hint of guilt in his voice, "They still took me in, they still treat me like family. And I really feel like they're my family, you know. Liam's like the little brother I never had, Scott's everybody's big brother... It's weird, though. Running with the wolves. They live so differently from our people. They're pretty wild."

"Well, you're not the only non-Werewolf in the pack," Donovan added, "You got a Banshee, a Kitsune, a WereCoyote and a human."

All three of them knew which human Donovan was referring to, but no one brought it up.

They didn't need that drama.

"Sounds like a pretty odd pack. I heard they used to have a _Hunter_ of all people, that Argent girl."

"Allison. She was killed before I met them." He didn't want to explain about the Nogitsune and Stiles, mainly because he didn't quite understand it all himself, but also due to Stiles being Sheriff Stilinski's son. "And her father, Chris, helps The Pack a lot. The Argents have changed since Gerard lost his position as leader."

"How's the Hale boy doing?" Franco asked gravely.

"Derek?" As Derek was 26 he wasn't used to hearing him described as a 'boy'. "He's... I don't know what he was like before, but he's lost so much now that he's pretty closed off to everyone. He's a great guy, and he's been kind and protective toward me, but he's still in a lot of pain."

Mr. Donati gave a sad sigh, "I remember the Hales, before the fire. Derek was a great athlete and pretty popular kid. They were good people, and they kept the peace. Until that psychotic whore Kate Argent and her even more depraved father burned them all to death... I remember the Hale fire like it was yesterday, it was the worst crime scene I'd ever visited during my time on the force. John never was the same after that case. I don't think any of us were. He refused to give up on the case, even after my... _Accident_."

Now they were in painful territory. Territory Sean had hoped to avoid. Fortunately, Donovan said nothing.

"I remember, it pretty much broke Derek. Poor kid was only 16 at the time. His sister, Laura, she shouldered the Alpha status until she was murdered." He shook his head, "Now it's just Derek and that crazy uncle of his, Peter." He looked Sean in the eyes, "The Hales were good people, like your family."

"I think," Sean said, "We're all too segmented. What I mean is, Wendigo generally only deal with other Wendigo, Werewolves other Werewolves, etc... The Astomi knew that the monster who killed my family was a Hunter, they considered him a criminal, but they're so isolated I didn't even know they existed. Lydia's grandmother drove Meredith Walker insane, they were both Banshee, but no one outside of a few Banshee knew about it. We need to share these things, have, I don't know, some kind of network where we can send information and warnings to each other, and to the other races as well. It's possible, with the technology we have, to create some sort of alert system. The problem is finding others and getting them involved. We don't trust each other."

"There's a reason for that." Mr. Donati began, "Creatures like Werewolves are very territorial, and there are a lot of Alphas that want to expand their territories by driving out or killing others. Some people just want power, or money. Some, like that mouthless freak, are just plain sadistic and evil. While humans are pretty much the same, they don't have to hide their true nature like we do. Especially _us_ , because we have to eat human flesh to survive. If our existence came out, I'm terrified of what might happen."

"It's a nice idea," Donovan agreed, "But I don't think it would work. What if someone hacked into the system?"

"We could disguise it as something else."

"I'm afraid all of this computer stuff is beyond me." Mr. Donati admitted, "You'd have to talk about it with someone who knows these things."

"I know someone whose great with this kind of thing."

"The Mahealani boy?"

Sean grinned, "Exactly. We'd better make the most of him now before MIT snatches him up." He shrugged slightly, "I'd need to discuss it with The Pack, though..."

...

To be continued...

Seriously, _everybody_ loves Danny.


	49. Chapter 49

Survival

Chapter 49

Windows

...

Liam was walking home after seeing Hayden to her's, which impressed her father greatly. It had been a nice date and a movie. Pity he wasn't old enough to drive, though.

He noticed oncoming headlights slowing and moving toward him. He was a Werewolf, but that traitor Garrett had caught him off guard and kidnapped him, and he was only a human, not even an adult human. Liam tensed and readied his claws.

"Hey little boy, need a ride?" A cheerful voice called. "I have candy."

Liam smirked, "Sean, you're an idiot, you know that, right?"

Sean just laughed, "Seriously though, do you need a ride? And what are you doing out so late?"

"I had a date." Liam walked over and opened the passenger side door, "And I'm a Werewolf. I can defend myself pretty well." He looked at Sean and grinned, "Is this just a trick to get me alone and eat me?"

"Nah, you'd be too tough. Blunt my teeth all up."

"What are _you_ doing out so late?"

"I was visiting Donovan and his dad. We talked a lot longer than I'd expected." He turned and mussed Liam's hair, earning an irritated glare, "How was the date?"

"We had a good time." He grinned again, "And her parents like me!"

"How could they not love our precious little pup?"

Liam gave a fake growl, "Don't call me a 'little pup', _Jaws_."

Sean began humming the theme to the _Jaws_ films as he drove.

Soon enough he pulled into the Dunbar's driveway.

"See you tomorrow, _Pup_."

"Thanks for the ride, _Jaws_."

Sean waited until Liam was inside the house before backing out and heading home to the McCall's.

...

Later that night,

Sean awoke suddenly to the sound of a window creaking open.

 _Oh God..._

It was coming from the direction of Scott's room.

His heart started pounding faster, as if it might tear itself from his chest.

 _Not again. Never again!_

He transformed into Wendigo form, grabbed his baseball bat, and charged into the hall, kicking open Scott's door to find-

Derek Hale standing by the window and Scott was sitting upright on his bed.

"Sean?" Scott's voice barely penetrated the fog in his mind.

The bat slipped through boneless fingers, Sean began trying to steady his breath, he was nearly hyperventilating.

Derek walked over slowly and put a steadying hand on his shoulder as Melissa McCall ran into the room with her handgun.

"What's going on? Sean?" She noticed he was in his Wendigo form, and terrified. "Sean, it's all right, nobody's going to hurt you."

"I should have warned him I sometimes come in through the window." Derek said sadly, pulling the trembling Wendigo into an embrace, "It's alright. We're not in danger. I use the window all the time," He smiled, "Easier than picking the lock..."

Sean, of course, didn't laugh.

"Sean, I'm sorry. I thought you knew about the windows."

"I _did_." Sean said dully, "But I panicked anyway." He looked at the broken door, and covered his face with his hand.

 _PTSD,_ Derek thought, _He's reacting as if we were under attack._

Melissa vanished from the shattered doorway only to reappear moments later with Sean's medicine and a glass of water. Sean took the medicine wordlessly.

Sean began repeating the calming mantra in his mind, _The sun. The moon. The truth._

Scott and Melissa joined in embracing him, and after a few minutes his heartbeat was close to normal, the worst of it had, hopefully, passed.

"I'm sorry about the door." Sean's voice was soft, quiet.

"Don't worry, it's just a door." Melissa said soothingly, "You're far more important than a door."

"C'mon, let's go down to the kitchen and talk."

...

Scott couldn't help smiling, "You were coming to help me?"

"We're pack. Family." Sean was pale and still trembling slightly, "I won't let it happen again. I was helpless before. My family died that night. I'm not helpless anymore, and I'm not about to let another family die like that."

"You didn't let them die, Sean. There was nothing you could have done to stop it -"

"I left the door open." His voice was laden with grief.

Scott and Mrs. McCall were perplexed, but Derek understood immediately.

"When I went out to find Willow," Sean's voice was trembling and he swallowed hard, "I left the front door open. _I let him in_."

"That monster was determined to kill you, if you had shut the door, he'd have walked in anyways, unless you lock yourself out every time you go outside. Even then he would have found another way in." Derek's voice was uncharacteristically warm, comforting even. He put an arm around Sean's shoulders. He knew the feeling, the guilt. He'd all but served up his entire family to that whore Kate Argent and her damnable hunters. But Sean hadn't done anything as foolish as he had. He had left his front door open while he stepped outside for a moment, who hadn't done that? He didn't deserve to feel that guilt.

When Sean started sobbing Derek pulled him close, literally giving him a shoulder to cry on. He felt like the world's biggest dick, sneaking around a house where a traumatized kid lived. He was lucky Sean hadn't come in swinging and bashed his empty head in.

After what happened to Erica, Boyd, Allison and Aiden and, to a lesser extent Isaac and Jackson, Derek didn't know if he could survive failing another member of his pack. He was going to protect them all, and Sean, Stiles and Liam were the most vulnerable. The easiest targets, and he would protect them, even if it killed him.

...

The night ended with a small puppy pile, Scott and Derek curled around Sean, their presence calming his fears and allowing him to sleep. Derek watched the young Wendigo's peaceful face. He was suffering, but he was reacting better than Derek himself had at his loss. Derek had shut himself off emotionally, swallowed by guilt and pain. Sean had no trouble expressing his emotions, and he made friends readily.

Derek was grateful for that fact. Maybe Sean's life would turn out alright...

...

To be continued...

I noticed that, in ' _Muted_ ', the front door to the Walcott's house is open while Sean is looking for Willow. If he'd lived, (hopefully he didn't really die!), Sean would have probably added leaving the door open to his survivor's guilt and PTSD. Even though shutting it would have accomplished nothing at all.

Derek is in the same boat, he blames himself for his family's deaths, Paige, Boyd, Erica, possibly Aiden. While he made some bad decisions, he had no way of knowing about how evil and manipulative Kate was until it was too late. He also wasn't at fault here, either. No one was. Sean knew about the windows, but his mind was jumbled by his PTSD.

Yes, Derek is out of character. That's why it's called ' _Fan_ ' fiction


	50. Chapter 50

Survival

Chapter 50

Walk like a Cat

...

Walking around on all fours isn't as easy as one might expect. Sean was a bit sore, but the other students, the human ones, would probably be in a lot of pain later. To move like a cat required them to move in a specific way on all fours. The placement of hands/paws, the sinuous movements of the body that were tough on the spine. The neck, shoulders and hips had to maneuver in unusual ways.

And the professional performers went through much tougher training than this.

Aside from being a Wendigo, Sean was already an athlete, a gymnast, which required one to be limber and precise. He was grateful to coach Dinashev now for pushing him so hard. Still, everyone, human or otherwise, struggled on.

No one wanted to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Eventually the call came for the break and Sean sat back on the floor as most of the others moved to the benches.

"Sean?" Sean turned to look at Kira. She was, like all of them, sweating and exhausted, "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"I had a... _Rough_ night. But I'm alright now, thanks." He was grateful Derek and Scott had not told the rest of The Pack of his panic attack.

Kira sat next to him, "I know we've had... Issues in the past. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't trust me. But if you really need someone to talk to here, I'll listen."

Sean leaned back on his arms, "I know. We're pack. Probably the weirdest pack in the world, but pack." He smiled mischievously, "Have you seen _Zootopia_ yet?"

"I thought it was a fair representation of foxes and how misunderstood and underappreciated we are."

"It wasn't very flattering to sheep, though."

"Never trust a sheep." Kira laughed.

"There have been a lot of things about Wendigo, believe it or not. _Supernatural_ and _Grimm_ had Wendigo episodes, and there are even a couple of movies. They're not very flattering, though. Though in _Wendigo_ the Wendigo was kind of an avenging angel type creature..." Sean began doing leg stretches to help work out the kinks in his muscles. "You know, I was thinking about what happened, with The Deadpool... I was thinking, if we kept some kind of contact with each other, we could warn other people about threats like that. The Astomi knew that guy was a criminal, but they didn't really have a way to warn anyone. I'm sure others knew about Violet and Garrett, but we just didn't get the message. If we had some kind of system to alert each other to danger, regardless of species, that could save a lot of lives."

"We could, but how would we keep it secret?"

Sean sighed, "That's the big question. People can hack into anything, or decode just about anything with computer programmes. Word of mouth wouldn't work, it's too unreliable." He smiled, "I'd like to talk it over with the pack, though. Maybe Danny, too."

"Getting others to trust the idea would be difficult. There are deep-seated prejudices, ancient feuds. The McCall Pack is an anomaly, most Werewolves wouldn't take in people of different types like us."

Sean continued his stretches, "We can't change everyone, but we can try to help as many as we can."

"You're beginning to sound like Scott."

"I'm not naive. I know that some people will not change, don't want to change. People who want to be cruel, violent or selfish." He stopped and frowned, then looked Kira in the eyes, "Of course, there are some people who are just too afraid to reach out to anyone else... Or can't."

"You realize that you're a bit buff for a kitten don't you?" She teased, trying to lighten the conversation.

"Pouncival is an active, healthy young tom, nothing says he can't be toned."

"Well, now I see why you kept turning me down." Ian smiled at Sean and indicated Kira, having walked up while they were talking.

"No, we're just friends..."

Ian grinned and elbowed Sean in the ribs playfully, "Sure." He sat down beside them, "It's funny, because a few weeks ago you two looked like you were going to murder each other..."

"I'm not rich enough to get away with murder." Sean chuckled lightly. "We just had a slight disagreement. Once she realized _I_ was right, as always, everything was fine."

"How modest of you."

Kira and Ian laughed.

Kira smirked, "Of course, there's also the fact that I could kick your ass with my arms tied behind my back."

"That would be a waste of a perfectly fine ass." Ian sighed.

"The sad thing is," Sean said, "That she really could."

"And don't you forget it."

...

"Hey, Twinkwolf!"

Liam groaned and rolled his eyes, "What do you want, oh Freakishly Tall One?"

Brett smirked. Liam was too easy to rile up.

"Well, you need someone to protect you, you've been kidnapped what, five times now?"

Liam growled and flashed golden eyes.

Brett held up his hands in surrender. Riled up was one thing, IED was something totally different.

"Hey, why don't you pick on someone your own size? Like a telephone pole or a giraffe?" Sean walked over to the pair, smiling, " _Attack of the 50' Male Model_!"

Liam laughed and Brett smiled despite himself.

"So, this mean you think I'm hot enough to be a male model, Sean?"

"I think the entire Pack is made up of people on loan from Abercrombie and Fitch. It's ridiculous!"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately, Sean? You're pretty much male model material yourself."

"I'm still totally straight and you're still dating, Brett. It wouldn't work out."

Brett shook his head, "Why so serious, Sean?"

...

To be continued...

I'm sorry this has taken so long. Hopefully things will get better soon and I'll be able to update more quickly.

 _Wendigo_ is an independant film about a family being harassed by a lunatic, when the bad guy actually kills the father The Wendigo hunts him down and takes his revenge.

Liam has been kidnapped by:

1\. Sean, at the hospital.

2\. Scott, at the hospital.

3\. The Pack (excluding Sean) at Lydia's party.

4\. Garrett and Violet.


	51. Chapter 51

Survival

Chapter 51

The Visitor

...

Both Sean and Liam's cell phones rang simultaneously.

"Could you get that? I'm driving and this car doesn't have a... Speaker-thingy."

Liam looked at the brief text, "Meeting tonight at 7. Scott says we have a guest."

"A guest?" Sean asked, "Maybe a new member?"

"Well, if it is, I hope they're younger than me. Being the Pack Puppy sucks."

"Would you really wish lycanthropy on someone younger than you?"

Liam groaned, "That's a cheap trick, bringing my conscience into this."

Sean just laughed.

...

As Sean parked, he noticed a vaguely familiar scent. A Werewolf, male, one he'd scented several times before, just fleeting ghosts of scents left in various places, mainly Derek's loft. "I wonder who that is?"

"Let's find out." Liam smiled, "I hope he's short."

He wasn't.

They both looked up at the tall, extremely pale, insanely handsome, (practically beautiful), blue-eyed, curly-haired blond standing next to Scott.

"Guys, this is Isaac."

" _Another_ 50' male model." Liam said sadly, "Is everyone on earth taller than me?"

...

As they exchanged pleasantries Isaac looked over the two new arrivals. Scott had already described them and explained a bit about their history. Not that he hadn't seen Sean's face before on the news a few months back. They were both small but well-built, obvious athletes, and both were very handsome. Sean moved like a cat, smoothly, silently and fluidly. Despite his easy smile there was a pain in his eyes, a tribute to the terrible losses he had endured. Scott had told him that, as a Wendigo, the boy had the potential to rival an Alpha in power. Fortunately he seemed good-natured, and Scott trusted him, which meant a lot in his book. Liam was graceful, but not as much as Sean. Of course, Sean was a gymnast and a dancer, Liam was a rough-and-tumble lacrosse player. And Liam was so young, he looked even younger than his fifteen years. He knew immediately that Liam had taken his place as 'Pack Puppy' when he'd left for France.

He hid a smirk behind his scarf.

 _Sucks to be him._

...

"I have to admit, I'd never heard of a Wendigo before..." Isaac shrugged, "We had everything from Darachs and homicidal Alphas to Demon Foxes after us, not to mention that old pervert Gerard Argent. I didn't have much time to read through _The Bestiary_."

"We try to keep a low profile." Sean took a sip of cola. So far, only he, Scott and Liam had arrived. Of course, he lived with the McCall family, so he would have been there regardless. He couldn't help but note that Isaac seemed tense, not toward him or Liam, just tense in general. He'd heard the horror stories about Isaac's life. How his older brother had died violently, (He could relate to that, intimately so), and being brutally abused by his sadistic father, (Sean realized how blessed he had been to have a loving family). Sean saw a bit of himself in Isaac Lahey, they both seemed to be treading on the edge, tormented by the past and hoping for something better.

"That's why you're playing a fair-sized role in a major musical production?" Isaac asked casually.

"Everybody on earth with a television or computer has seen my face. I can't change that. I'll be under quite a bit of makeup... I mean, cosmetics..." Sean sighed dramatically, "As long as I keep myself under control and eat properly, I should be alright. It's not easy, but I've worked too hard to give up now."

"Could you... uh... Change?" Isaac asked awkwardly, "Like I said, I've never seen a Wendigo..."

"You probably won't like what you see, but I'll show you." Sean's eyes changed to silver slits and several rows of large, pointed teeth sprouted in his mouth. Isaac nearly fell off the chair, his blue eyes as wide as saucers.

"T-t-those are some big teeth..."

Sean avoided the obvious ' _The better to eat you with_ ' remark. "Sorry. Don't worry," His voice seemed a bit deeper, "You'll get used to it." He retracted to his human form.

"That's almost as terrifying as being forced to go shopping with Lydia..."

They all turned slightly at the sound of Stiles' jeep pulling up.

Isaac smirked, "Is Stiles still skinny, clumsy and helpless?"

"He's still skinny and clumsy, but he's by no means helpless."

"Hey, Scotty!" The door opened, "What's the big secret? Who's the fresh meat?"

Stiles stopped in the doorway to the living room, gawking at Isaac.

"Hey, Stiles." Isaac waved casually.

"I see you've met your replacements. Liam's as whiny as you are-"

"HEY!" Liam objected.

"And they both have terrible tempers-"

"You're pushing it, Stiles." Isaac warned.

"And if one stands on the other's shoulders, they're almost as tall as you are."

Liam and Sean both stuck their tongues out at Stiles.

Stiles grinned and gave the slender blond a 'manly' hug, "It's good to see you again, dude! How was France?"

"Okay, I guess. It was good not having to look at the places that trigger bad memories, but it's Hell without the Pack. I can see why a lot of Omegas go insane, being a lone Werewolf. I even missed you! For a few seconds, anyway, then I remembered what an ass you are."

Stiles grabbed his chest in mock pain, "You wound me! I'm not an ass, I'm a socially awkward master of the art of sarcasm!"

...

More of the Pack arrived, each greeting Isaac warmly.

Sean noticed a slight tension between Derek Hale and Isaac. From what he understood, Isaac, aside from the never-present Peter Hale, was the last surviving member of Derek's first pack. After the others had been killed, Derek had forced him away, probably believing him better off with the McCall pack. He'd been told it hadn't been pretty, and from what he'd observed of pack bonds he imagined they had both suffered terribly. Plus, the idea of having the only real father figure in Isaac's life throw him out into the rain right after seeing his two pack-mates murdered in cold blood probably didn't help to inspire kindly feelings towards the gruff Werewolf.

Of course, Derek had just lost his pack for a second time, watched helplessly as they died, and Boyd died by Derek's own claws due to Kali's sick manipulations. He probably would not have survived losing Isaac as well. Derek had lost his entire family and his pack, and he was willing to let Isaac hate him if it kept him safe.

Derek sat and nodded silently in Isaac's direction.

Isaac didn't acknowledge him.

"How's Chris? Why isn't he here?"

"He had business with another hunter family. There are a LOT of Werewolves in France, and some of them make Deucalion look like a saint. He's been working a lot lately, mainly in the rural provinces. I actually haven't seen him in months. I was willing to go help him, but between school and the fact that the other hunters might not want a Werewolf on their team it didn't work out."

"Chris Argent?" Sean asked. As children, he and David had heard horror stories about the Argents, especially Gerard and Kate. They were the earthly Devils of his childhood. He'd learned a lot more about them since joining the Pack, and hated them even more for it. Kate was especially demonic, what she'd done to Derek when he was a boy was unforgivable. But Chris and his late daughter Allison had broken the cycle of evil and restored honor to the family name. Allison had died fighting beside the Pack against the Nogitsune, and Scott was still mourning her death, even though he had a new girlfriend now.

Scott had told him Allison died in Isaac's arms.

"The same." Isaac answered. "He's good though."

At that moment another tall, ridiculously attractive blond boy walked into the room, taking Isaac in with his usual sleepy looking gaze, "A present? For me? _Nice_."

Isaac looked at the youth like he was a lunatic.

"Isaac, this is Brett Talbot, he's from a nearby pack. He's 'on loan' to us for a while." Scott motioned toward Brett, "Brett, this is Isaac Lahey."

"Brett chases just about any tail that he sees." Stiles noted, "He's been hitting on Sean, but Sean's straight and like _celibate_ or something. Brett's switch is stuck on ' _horny_ '. He makes _Danny_ seem subtle."

"Kind of like you, Stiles?"

"Oh ha-ha..."

"Uh, nice to meet you." Isaac stood and shook Brett's hand.

"My _pleasure_." He spoke the word 'pleasure' as if they were in bed.

"Sorry man, straight."

"No way! No guy can look _that_ pretty and be straight!" Brett couldn't believe it.

Lydia interrupted his chain of thought, "Besides, what about Mason? You know, your _boyfriend_?"

"We share." Brett replied simply.

Liam stuck a finger down his throat and made a gagging sound, "Dude, I don't want to know what you and my best friend do together."

By this time Isaac was already back on the couch.

"Are you finished objectifying Isaac yet, Brett?" Sean asked.

Brett looked him over hungrily one more time, "Yeah, for now."

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Sean knows so much about the history of the Pack because Stiles talks about everything and Scott is kind of stupid.

Historically, there were far more reports of 'Werewolf killings' in France than in Transylvania. Many, many people in Europe were tortured and put to death under suspicion of being Werewolves. Yet, people invariably associate Werewolves with Romania, Transylvania in particular. While people in Romania certainly believed in Werewolves, and some still do, it wasn't the center of all things supernatural as Hollywood likes to make it out to be.

Kate Argent is the most evil, despicable, disgusting character in Teen Wolf. Nogitsune was bad, he lived for pain and chaos, but Kate was worse. A sick, sadistic, perverted, manipulative bitch who used a young boy just to murder his family. Statutory rape doesn't just apply to girls either, so technically she's a rapist and a pedophile. She has absolutely no redeeming qualities.


	52. Chapter 52

Survival

Chapter 52

Old Wounds

...

"So, do Wendigo form packs?" Isaac asked.

Sean shook his head no, "No. Imagine if you had a whole pack of beings that had to eat human flesh to survive living in one small area. There are only so many ways to get a corpse, and we prefer not to use murder. It'd be pretty hard to explain a lot of bodies going missing. We need human flesh at least once a month or we end up like I did the night I met Scott and Liam. There are relatively few of us, so we have a lot of room without the need to form our own groups. In some big cities with a lot of crime there may be dozens of Wendigo, but here in Beacon Hills, it was just my family, the Donati family and Patrick Clark."

"I'm sorry about what happened to your family, and to you." Isaac's voice was soft, "I can't imagine that kind of pain. In fact, when my dad died I was actually relieved that he'd never be able to hurt me or anyone else again."

"Thank you" Sean's voice was a bit strained, "I cope. It's all I can do, besides going insane or committing suicide. Life is a terminal condition, it's something we all have to accept at some point in our lives."

Willow sauntered into the room and lept into Sean's lap, a fortunate distraction from the increasingly depressing conversation.

"Have you met Willow yet, Isaac?" Sean indicated the cat, "I'm her pet Wendigo."

Several people laughed. Isaac wasn't sure if Sean was being serious or not.

"I have. She's friendly." Isaac replied.

Stiles' eyes narrowed, "Then why does she hiss at me so much?"

"Because she has _standards_ , Stiles. No offence, Malia."

"That was cold, bro. Like _Snowmaggedon_ cold."

Sean gave a sly grin, "Well, Wendigo are supposed to have hearts of ice. That's the traditional Algonquin way to kill a Wendigo, pierce it's frozen heart with a burning stick."

Stiles rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "So, basically killing a Wendigo is like roasting marshmallows..."

"Speaking of marshmallows, I'm starving." Liam groaned.

"I'll cook-" Sean began.

Almost the entire Pack looked at him in horror.

Sean looked insulted, "You don't honestly think I'd cook human for you, do you?"

They ended up ordering pizza.

...

Derek wanted desperately to say something, but he had no idea what. Words were never his strong suit. He knew that Isaac still resented being thrown out of his home and what little remained of his pack, but he was sure the boy knew why it was necessary. The Alpha Pack wasn't going to rest until all of Derek's pack were dead, and he's already lost Boyd and Erica, he couldn't afford to lose Isaac too. The Twins were already targeting him at school on Deucalion's behalf.

He'd been cruel, he knew that. But he had to be. Pack bonds are so strong a Beta like Isaac would never willingly leave his Alpha, and, if ordered out, might keep coming back to try to win his way back in. There was also the fact that Derek had given him The Bite and freed him from the horrible abuse he'd suffered at home. Isaac's gratitude and loyalty wouldn't allow him to abandon his Alpha.

So he had to make Isaac hate him.

It was one of the most agonizing things he had ever done in his life, and considering his life, that was saying something.

Isaac was sitting with the others, eating pizza as the group swapped stories of their lives since the separation.

Isaac hadn't looked at him once since that first brief glance.

He didn't regret it. He couldn't. If Isaac had stayed he'd be just like Erica and Boyd. At least he still had a chance to live, and, hopefully, be happy.

...

Melissa McCall walked into her house and immediately noticed three things.

First, the whole Pack was there.

Second, they were having pizza tonight.

And third, there was a young man there she hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Isaac!" Melissa rushed forward and took Isaac into a motherly embrace, "It's been so long! It's so good to see you again."

Isaac's baby-blue doe-eyes started misting up, "It's good to see you, too."

She turned to the group, "Isaac comes all the way from France and you serve him _pizza?_ He needs a home-cooked meal!"

"Sean offered to cook and everybody freaked." Liam stated.

She shook her head sadly.

"Don't worry about Sean, he's one of the most thoughtful young men I've ever met. And he makes a mean curry." She looked at Isaac in a motherly way, "You look great. France has been good to you?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He smiled, Melissa was pretty much the mother he didn't have. With his mom and Camden dead and his father a sadistic, abusive bastard, he greatly welcomed the warm affection of his extended pack family, "I missed you, too."

"Well, since everyone has ruined their appetite, I'll have to cook you something tomorrow... Where are you staying?"

"Chris lent me the keys to an apartment he kept in the city when he needed to be away from his family."

"And how is Chris?"

"He's doing well, busy, but well."

"I'm happy to hear that."

...

"Puppy pile!"

God, how Isaac had missed that closeness, that warmth of being surrounded by pack, even the non-Werewolves added to the feeling of _belonging_. The feeling of being a part of something greater than one's self.

Isaac wasn't surprised when Liam and Sean curled together in the puppy pile. He couldn't help but notice how strongly Sean and Liam smelled of each other, and how close they were. It was difficult to imagine being kidnapped by a insane boy/Wendigo who wanted to eat you, being thrown off a building by said boy, causing you to be bitten by a Werewolf, and then becoming such an incredibly close pack brother with him.

Isaac wasn't so forgiving. He was still angry about some of the things the Twins had done, especially their role in Boyd's death. Even though Aiden had died to help save the Pack from the Nogitsune and Ethan was pretty much devastated and lost. He knew he should forgive them, but it wasn't something that came to him easily. He had so much rage and bitterness beaten into him by his father, he found it hard to look beyond the past.

Like Derek.

He understood why Derek had thrown him out, to protect him from the Alpha Pack, so he wouldn't end up like Boyd and Erica. Isaac had seen Boyd die, seen the Twins holding him as Kali forced him onto Derek's claws. Being literally forced to kill one of his Betas would have been torture for the Alpha. Derek had saved his life several times, saved him from the Hell that was his home and the monster that was his father. He owed Derek far more than he could ever repay.

He wanted to forgive him, he really did.

But he had been so cruel about it, leaving him shivering in the rain, homeless and pack-less. Scott, sweet, generous Scott and Melissa had taken him in, just as they had now taken in Sean. Another lost boy with no family, no one to help him and a ton of mental trauma.

Scott always was soft about taking in strays.

And Isaac was grateful for that.

He watched as Willow daintily picked her way over the sleeping Pack to curl atop Sean's slumbering form.

As he looked for a spot to join the puppy pile, he noticed someone was missing.

Derek.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Glenn McCuen has a few songs posted on Youtube, he sings beautifully and he also plays the piano. The songs I found are ' _Counting Stars_ ' and ' _All of Me_ '.

Chris Argent appeared in chapter 24 in Beacon Hills helping search for the Slender Man. I'd forgotten that, so let's just say he went back to France after a brief trip home.


	53. Chapter 53

Survival

Chapter 53

In which Derek is depressed and The Pack discuss the beauty of Nicholas Hoult.

...

Derek had slipped away while everyone was hypnotized by Stiles' rambling account of their adventure with The Slenderman.

He just couldn't stay.

He remembered telling Sean that an Alpha who threw out pack members without good reason didn't deserve the title.

He'd had a good reason, but he'd never deserved the title of Alpha.

Laura was supposed to be Alpha, not Derek. Derek wasn't made to be an Alpha, he'd proven that by his stupidity with Kate and the deaths of his own pack at the hands of the Alpha Pack.

And at his own hands.

He remembered the look on Boyd's face as he was driven onto his Alpha's claws. His own helplessness as he was used to kill a boy who trusted him completely.

 _Alpha?_

He laughed humorlessly.

He wondered how Laura would have handled Deucalion and his pack.

He had a good idea of what _Peter_ would have done.

As he was then, Peter would have happily killed them all and joined Deucalion. Then he would have picked the Alphas off one by one to become the new 'Demon Wolf'. He might have kept The Twins, they were powerful, stupid and easily controlled, perfect minions for a cunning lunatic.

No, Ethan and Aiden weren't stupid. They were just young and ignorant of how a pack was supposed to work. They'd gone from Omegas and pack bitches to Alphas in one night of slaughter. They'd had no one to guide or teach them other than Deucalion, and he was a raging psychopath. Regardless, they would have been easy to keep leashed, because they still remembered life at the bottom, and they didn't want to go back.

He'd gotten Aiden killed, too.

They'd helped them, turned against Deucalion and fought the Nogitsune.

And look how that had turned out.

Ethan lost his twin, Stiles lost his innocence and the Pack lost Allison.

 _Isaac_ lost Allison. She'd died in his arms, just like Paige had died in Derek's.

 _Good going Derek. You never fail to fail those you care about. Those who trust you, who rely on you._

He pulled the Camaro onto the side of the road. He had to get out before he tore it to shreds.

He turned and ran into the darkness of the Preserve, despite knowing that he couldn't outrun himself.

...

"I finally figured it out," Liam eyed the others warily, "You've all made deals with The Devil."

"What?"

"How else is it every other guy in this Pack but me and Sean are six-foot-something Greek gods? It's not natural!"

Isaac sighed, "Somebody did say I looked a bit like a god from some movie... _Ares_ , I think..."

"You don't strike me as the 'God of War' type, no offence." Liam crossed his arms petulantly, "I wouldn't be surprised if some tall, sex-symbol type of model or movie star came out as a Were-something and joined our Pack. After seeing Nicholas Hoult in _Fury Road_ , I'm certain he's half puppy."

"You've obviously never watched ' _Skins_ '."

"Did you see ' _Warm Bodies?_ '? Nicholas Hoult was even sexy as a _zombie..._ " Lydia gave a teasing smile and glanced at Scott.

Scott's eyes narrowed in jealousy.

"I wouldn't mind him as a Pack-Mate," Brett stretched his arms over his head lazily, "Or a bed-mate."

Liam frowned, "I don't know what Mason sees in you."

"Wit, charm, a perfect body and stunning good looks, for starters."

Sean laughed, "I think Mr. Hoult will have to find a different pack. We've just about filled our 'ridiculously tall male model' quota."

"Why else would I hang out with this pack of losers?" Kira smirked and put a gentle hand on Isaac's shoulder, "I get the best views in town."

Stiles was about to make a snarky remark when his ringtone began to play.

"Yo, Pops?" His face paled as the Sheriff explained why he had called.

He looked at the Pack and explained for those without supernatural hearing, "Guys, they found Derek's Camaro abandoned on the side of the road in the Preserve. With the keys inside. They can't find him..."

If it were possible, Sean could have sworn Isaac paled even further than he already was.

...

Stiles pulled Roscoe over to the side of the road and parked behind Derek's Camaro, followed by the group in Sean and Lydia's vehicles.

Sheriff Stilinski was already there, being the one who'd called Stiles in the first place.

In normal police procedure, an adult, especially an adult as physically powerful as Derek Hale, vanishing for a few hours would not be investigated as a missing person. But this was Beacon Hills, and said adult was Derek Hale. And while Derek was, to an extent, a 'lone wolf' who enjoyed the occasional run in the woods, he usually didn't just pull his expensive car over to the side of the road and leave.

John noticed Isaac Lahey among the group who had just arrived. That boy had suffered so terribly at his father's hands, and John had been deeply troubled by his inability to prove abuse and put the animal behind bars where he belonged. But a certain lizard-boy had ended Mr. Lahey's miserable life and freed Isaac from his personal Hell.

It was almost enough to make him like that obnoxious Jackson Whittemore.

 _Almost._

"It's good to see you again, Isaac." He nodded to the boy, who looked rather stressed. But he didn't really have time to catch up on old times. He turned to Scott, "Any scents we should be worried about?"

"Sadness. Guilt. But no fear or truly violent intentions. Most likely he just started thinking about the past and got too emotional to drive."

"Too emotional? We're talking about the Sourwolf here. His only emotions are grumpy and angry."

John thought back to the night of the Hale fire, of vulnerable, broken boy sobbing in his arms. "He's not emotionless, Stiles. He just doesn't know how to express them anymore."

"Maybe we should just let him alone?" Liam spoke up, "If he ran off into the preserve of his own free will, then he probably doesn't want anyone bothering him."

"Yeah, he's probably out there getting in touch with his inner Yoda."

Sean was more than a little worried. Derek was the strong one. Derek had been there for him when he was at his lowest point in life. Now Derek was hurting and Sean was powerless to comfort him. Aside from Liam, Derek was the member of the Pack he felt the closest to. They both had lost their families to hunters, and they had an understanding the others couldn't fathom. The deep sense of loss, of guilt... It pained him that Derek was in pain. He didn't, couldn't blame Isaac, that would be truly unfair, but he wanted the two to resolve this and get on with living.

...

"So, you just ran off. Why am I not surprised?"

Derek didn't even turn to look at Peter, who was standing a few feet away.

"Isaac's back. He won't even look at me."

"Well, who could blame him, with a face like yours?"

Derek growled, he wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"Did you try, I don't know, actually talking to him? Oh, that's right, you're not much of a talker..."

Derek's eyes glowed a dangerous blue, "If you don't shut up, Peter, I'm going to rip your throat out. _Again_."

"I think I'll pass. The whole 'death' thing wasn't really my style." _What is it with this pack?_ Peter wondered, _Everybody wants to blame themselves for everything bad that happens in the world..._

"It's all my fault. Everything comes back to me. Paige died because of me. Kate used me to get at our family..." Derek shook his head slowly. "If the fire had never happened, you wouldn't have been burned. You wouldn't have been anywhere near Meredith Walker. She would never have become The Benefactor. Sean would still have his family, and-"

"If. ' _If_ ' is one of the most useless words in the English language. What if? It _wasn't_ and it will _never_ be." Peter's voice betrayed a hint of anger, "You can't change the past, and even if you could, would it really help? _IF_ Kate hadn't burned down our house, maybe faulty electrical wiring or lightning or fire from Heaven would have burned it. _If_ I hadn't been around Meredith Walker, she might have sucked the crazy out of Patrick Clark and started thinking she was a Wendigo. You saw what happened when she got into Sean's mind. She thinks she's Willow for God's sake! Bad things happened, people died. But we survived. 'What if' doesn't matter, what we're going to do is all that matters."

"Isaac is all I have left of my pack. I can't lose him. I won't."

"Well, you can't keep him safe or kiss and makeup while hiding in the woods just so you don't have to look him in the eye." Peter threw up his hands, "How did I end up psychologist to a pack of self-hating, guilt-ridden kids? Wasn't being burned alive, spending ten years in a coma and and _dying_ punishment enough? I know I've done some... _Questionable_ things, but come on..."

...

"We should probably go," Sean noted softly, "Some of us, anyway. Derek probably doesn't want to walk out of the woods and see the _whole_ Pack staring at him."

Scott nodded, "Okay. That's a good idea, he probably doesn't feel much like talking." He turned to his Pack, "I'll stay, and guard his car." He wondered if it would be a good idea to have Isaac stay, in case Derek wanted to talk with him. But uncomfortable as they both were around each other, it might be better to give them a little time to prepare themselves. Derek seemed at ease with Sean, but Sean had driven some of the others here and he wasn't sure he was willing to trust David's car to someone else yet. Getting home shouldn't be a problem, as Sheriff Stilinski would most likely give him a lift if Derek just wanted to go.

"Peter's coming." Scott stated as the figure of Peter Hale emerged from the treeline.

" _Police?_ Is that really necessary? He's only been gone a few hours." Peter said casually.

"He left his keys in his car." John replied. "Most people don't abandon their expensive cars on the side of the road with the keys inside."

"As you've probably figured out, my nephew is not 'most people'." He looked at the gathered Pack, "Isaac! It's good to see you again. When you left I was... Temporarily incapacitated."

"You were dead."

"Yep, now he's a _Zombiewolf_." Stiles groaned. "He's like a cockroach. We just can't get rid of him."

"Shouldn't you be on your way to grandmother's house with a basket full of goodies, _Little Red_?" Peter asked Stiles straight-faced. He smiled at Isaac, "I hope Chris has been treating you well. Derek will be here shortly."

"Is he alright?"

Peter shrugged, "He's just a bit confused at the moment. Having a conscience must be terribly inconvenient, I'm grateful that I am not cursed with such a burden."

"You're not nearly as bad as you think you are."

Sean wondered why everyone was giving him such funny looks.

"I mean, you've made some mistakes, but who hasn't? And you weren't really in control then..."

Peter smiled, and Stiles jumped back a few feet.

"Why thank you Sean, it's nice to know I have one friend in The Pack."

"You avenged my family, helped track down The Benefactor and stop The Deadpool. A bad person wouldn't do that."

Peter put a hand on Sean's shoulder, "You're a good kid. Don't ever change." He turned, "I think it's time I took my leave. Goodbye Sean, Isaac, everyone else. And, of course, Little Red."

"Don't call me that!"

Peter walked back into the forest, laughing.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Sorry for the OOC.

Honestly, just about every evil thing that happened in the first four or five seasons can be traced back to Kate Argent and her actions. With the exception of Paige's death, she set everything in motion. Even The Alpha Pack's arrival was Kate's fault, they wanted Derek because he was an Alpha, if his family had lived he'd have never become Alpha in the first place. She's pretty much the source of all evil in _Teen Wolf_.

I think The McCall Pack has some sort of unholy bargain that makes them all insanely attractive. And I'm not demeaning Dylan Sprayberry, (Liam) or Glenn McCuen, (Sean). You'll notice Liam said they were shorter than the other guys, he didn't say they weren't good-looking. Glenn has done modelling work and I wouldn't be surprised if Dylan has as well.

Daniel Sharman (Isaac) Played Ares, god of War in the 2011 movie ' _Immortals_ '. And, for the record, he can very much play the 'god of war' type.

 _Spoiler for 'Immortals'!_ Ares ( _Classified_ ) the heroes and gets ( _Redacted_ ) by that pathetic, perverted excuse for a deity, Zeus, who ordered the gods not to ( _Excised_ ). What a ( _Profanity Deleted_ )! When I studied Greco-Roman mythology I always hated Zeus, Poseidon and Athena. Always raping and killing people, or, in Athena's case, cursing, torturing and killing people. Just ask Medusa.

Nicholas Hoult played the loveable Warboy Nux in ' _Mad Max : Fury Road_ '. He said he based his performance in part on a puppy. An adorable little puppy on crack. He also played the love-struck zombie R in ' _Warm Bodies'_. He's a main (frequently naked) character on the TV show _'Skins'_ and has been in more than a few films (also frequently naked). And he's a male model.

Nicholas Hoult is a towering 6'3" tall.

Cody Saintgnue (Brett) is 6'2" tall

Daniel Sharman (Isaac) is 6'2"

Tyler Hoechlin (Derek) is 6' tall

Tyler Posey (Scott) is 5'10"

Dylan O'Brien (Stiles) is 5'10"

Ian Bohen (Peter) is 5'10"

Colton Haynes (Jackson) is 5'9"

Glenn McCuen (Sean) is 5'7"

Myself (Razell) am 5'6"

Dylan Sprayberry (Liam) is 5'5"


	54. Chapter 54

Survival

Chapter 54

A Breaking Storm

...

"I think it's going to rain." Brett looked up at the gathering clouds, "We should probably go."

Derek Hale emerged from the forest, looking more Sadwolf than Sourwolf, but a glint of determination in his eyes. He looked over the assembled Pack, surprised that they had all come to wait for him.

"Isaac. C'mon, I want to talk to you," He motioned toward his Camaro, "Everyone else, go back to McCall's and wait for us."

Isaac hesitated a moment, Derek wasn't his Alpha anymore, wasn't _anyone's_ Alpha anymore, but decided that if they could work this out it was worth it. He maneuvered his long, lanky figure into the passenger seat of the Camaro as everyone else headed to the rest of the vehicles.

"And thank you..." Derek said softly as the Pack began to pile into their cars and jeep.

"That's what Pack is for, right?" Scott said cheerfully as he clambered into Roscoe.

"I guess I'm not needed here, then?" John asked.

"Not anymore, but thanks for watching my car, and worrying enough to call the Pack."

"That's my job, Derek. To protect the people of Beacon Hills. But please, next time you decide to go for a late-night run in the woods, park your car in a safe spot and take the keys with you."

As the last vehicle drove away, Derek pulled himself into the Camaro and looked sadly at Isaac.

"I really screwed it all up, didn't I?"

...

The clouds opened up and the storm burst, sending sheets of rain upon the town of Beacon Hills and it's inhabitants.

"Isaac... I know what you must think of me. The way I left you... Forced you out like that. It's ironic, but shortly after Sean joined, I told him that no Alpha worth the title would abandon a loyal member of his Pack, and that's exactly what I did to you."

"I know, I mean, I understand. You were trying to protect me. After what happened to Boyd and Erica..." Isaac paused a moment, thinking sadly of his lost pack mates, "But you were so..."

"Harsh? Cruel?" Derek supplied, "I felt... I felt that I had to be. You're loyal, Isaac, you've always been loyal, to a fault. If I had told you to leave, to join McCall's Pack, to would have refused. Ever after what happened, you'd have chose to die by my side... I had to get you away. To protect you from The Alpha Pack. I knew The Twins were already after you at school, and I couldn't bear losing you. You... You're like a son to me. I couldn't let you die because you happened to be close to me, so I had to push you away. Ruthlessly. To ensure that you wouldn't come back."

"You never apologized." Isaac's eyes glowed golden in the darkness, "You never acknowledged what happened, even after The Alpha Pack was beaten. Ever after Allison..." The words caught in his throat.

"I was going through so much guilt and pain. Everyone who had died, died because of me. Allison, Boyd, Erica, even Aiden was my responsibility. Stiles... What happened to him was worse than death. I was so wrapped up in my own pain and guilt that I didn't have any comfort to offer anyone. I was drowning in self-pity, and I barely noticed the pain everyone else was suffering, aside from placing the blame on myself."

The childish part of Isaac wanted to argue, but found little basis to do so. Derek had been haunted by guilt from the time he was 15 and killed his girlfriend in an act of mercy. Shortly after which, his new girlfriend murdered almost his entire family. His uncle went insane and killed his sister, and Derek had to personally put him down. He bit Jackson, and the kid turned into a Kanima and was used to murder over a dozen innocent people. He later lost his entire pack, with the exception of Isaac himself, to the Alphas and at the same time learned that his current girlfriend, Jennifer Blake, was the demonic, murderous Darach. Then the Nogitsune arrived and wreaked Hell on everyone... And Isaac had heard that the Hale family's money had been used to fund The Deadpool, which had robbed Sean of his family and numerous others of their lives. Derek's entire life had been a series of bad choices, worse luck and unspeakable loss.

Isaac had known suffering as well, losing his mother and older brother, being viciously abused by his father until Jackson/the Kanima killed him. He'd endured attempts on his life by the Alphas, witnessing the deaths of his pack, his family, and finally broke when Allison died in his arms. His time in France had helped him heal, being away from the ceaseless supernatural war zone that was Beacon Hills, but it also left him without a pack.

"Isaac, I'm sorry I hurt you. You depended on me, and I did what I thought was the best for you at the time. As long as you were safe, I didn't care if you hated me. But I didn't think about how much pain it would cause you. How it would affect your life. As long as you were alive, it didn't seem to matter." Derek glanced over at the boy, "I should have known better. Can you forgive me?"

Derek Hale asking for forgiveness was something Isaac had never really imagined happening.

"Yes. Of course." He said quietly. He didn't know what else to say. He looked out the window into the pouring rain, lost in thought.

Derek repressed a sigh. _It's a start, at least._

...

Sean's dial tone went off again. He was a bit surprised, as he didn't really know that many people to get two calls in such quick succession.

"Liam, could you please get that for me?" Sean was driving, and didn't want to pull over to answer the phone.

"It's someone named Ray."

"Ray Habashira." When he got blank looks in return, Sean added, "Captain of the football team? Star quarterback?"

"Beacon Hills has a football team?" Brett asked from the backseat.

"Just answer it."

"Hello. This is Liam Dunbar on Sean Walcott's phone..."

"Dunbar? From the lacrosse team?" The voice was laced with nervous tension, "Where's Sean?"

"Driving. He asked me to answer."

"We have a bit of a situation here. I need to talk to him in private."

"It's alright." Sean stated loudly, "Liam's pack. So is the giant in the backseat."

"Then they need to know too. We just ran off a hunter."

Sean slammed the brakes hard.

Liam grabbed onto the dashboard, "Easy, I'm not ready for Valhalla yet!"

Sean grabbed the phone from Liam's hands.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, he wasn't expecting dad to have a shotgun, apparently..."

"Where do you live?" His voice had a dark tinge to it.

"215 East Maple."

"We're on our way now."

Sean put his foot on the gas and turned left.

"We'll be right there..." He turned, "You guys call the Pack. Tell them there's a hunter on the loose."

There was a look in his eyes that troubled Liam. And he was certain he knew what it was.

A family attacked in their own home by a hunter.

Just like the Walcott's.

And Sean was going to make whoever was responsible pay dearly for that mistake.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Roscoe is Stiles' beloved jeep, if anyone is wondering.

Technically, Brett is not pack, at least, not with the McCall Pack. He's with Satomi's pack. But he's an 'Exchange Werewolf' at the moment.

Another _Mad Max_ reference is hidden in here.

As I've said before, Ray Habashira is named after Habashira Rui from _Eyeshield 21_. Sean does have some friends outside of the Pack and their circle of friends like Danny and other Wendigo like Donovan and Patrick. Ian, Ray and Alex are some of his friends, we just don't see them much as I'm trying to avoid having major OC's. Ray is a Reptoid, basically a lizard who can look like a human. Unlike the Kanima, they are highly intelligent and don't need masters or keepers.


	55. Chapter 55

Survival

Chapter 55

United We Stand

...

Sheriff Stilinski was having a difficult time with this case, as neither of the parents spoke English, their teenage son, Ray, whom he recognized as the star quarterback from the High School's football team, had to translate the somewhat rapid-fire, excited Japanese to John and his own questions to the parents.

A home invasion, apparently, but the Sheriff suspected it was something much more. Something that involved the supernatural. The way the boy's unusually long tongue flicked in and out of his mouth when he became too excited was more like a lizard than a human, and something about his lean, wiry form and long, gangly limbs seemed decidedly reptilian as well. The victims hadn't called the police, in fact, it was a neighbor who, hearing gunshots, made the call. There were only two reasons he could think of people would not call the police after a home invasion, and somehow the Habashira family didn't strike him as drug dealers.

The arrival of a very familiar car confirmed his suspicions as Sean Walcott slid to a rough stop and jumped out of the car into the pouring rain, followed by Liam Dunbar and Brett Talbot.

"Ookami-jin?" The father looked down at the boy, who stated something in Japanese. John did hear a word that sounded suspiciously like 'Wendigo' during the exchange. He also got the feeling they hadn't wanted him to contact anyone.

"Is everyone alright?" Sean literally lept over the steps and onto the porch, the two Werewolves close behind.

"We're alright, just a little shaken up." Ray answered. "Thanks for coming."

 _They didn't call the police but they called Sean?_ "Sean, you know these people?"

"Ray's a friend from school." Sean explained breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, but this is a crime scene and-"

"And we can investigate it our own way, with our skills." Brett, now on the porch with Liam and Sean, noted. "And I speak Japanese."

John rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Please tell me the rest of The Pack isn't coming."

At that moment Stiles' beloved jeep parallel parked behind David's car.

...

Sean stood quietly beside the house, ignoring the pouring rain. His attention was focused on a scattering of broken glass fragments.

The hunter had escaped through the second floor window above him.

Judging from the scent, he'd cut himself up.

 _Sean grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his bare arm. He knew it would hurt, but it was better than what that monster promised._

 _He punched the window full force, shattering it. Despite the protection of the towel, several shards slashed deeply into his arm, but he was too afraid to notice the pain. He knocked out the remaining glass and jumped..._

Sean was startled out of his memory by a hand on his shoulder, and his taut muscles reacted instinctively to the perceived danger. He whirled around and swung at the person touching him, eyes silver and teeth bared. It was Derek. Derek sidestepped the blow and deftly pinned his arm behind his back. "Sean, it's me. You're safe."

Sean was breathing heavily, shivering and his hands were still clenched when Derek released him. The Werewolf took in the scene and shook his head.

 _Just like that night. It's too much for him, we have to get this kid out of here._

"Sean, go home." His voice was soft, soothing, "Please. Go back to Melissa. We'll handle this."

Sean's features returned to human, and he stared at the ground, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you."

"I know. That's why you need to go home. What if it had been Stiles? Or Liam? You could kill a human with a blow like that, and Liam would have lost control and fought you. A Wendigo and a Werewolf fighting in public would be hard to miss..."

"You're right. But Ray called _me_."

"You're the only one involved with The Pack whose phone number Ray knows, most likely. I don't think your friend would want you to have a breakdown, he just needed you to get help."

"Besides, we need someone to protect mom, right?" Scott walked over, sensibly holding an umbrella, "And you need to get out of the rain, you're soaked dude."

Sean nodded quietly. He wasn't a Werewolf, but he was Pack, and his Alpha's words meant alot to him. Shortly after they'd first met, after he'd calmed down and could think straight again, he'd gotten the impression that Scott was... Well, _stupid_. But while he might be naive and a bit thick-headed, he had a pure heart and always did what he felt was best for the Pack and those around them. He'd even given Sean a chance after he'd attacked Mrs. McCall at the hospital.

Sean was man enough to admit he had been wrong about Scott's leadership abilities.

Scott walked up beside Sean and handed him the umbrella, a kind but futile gesture as he was already soaked through. He looked up again toward the broken window, then turned his head away and faced Scott, who was already looking like a wet puppy.

"This is what I was talking about." Sean stated, "Different types of people working together, warning each other of danger and facing threats together. _United we stand, Divided we fall_."

...

The decision was made that Stiles, Lydia, Brett and Kira would stay to help protect the family, Sean and Liam would return to the McCall's, more for Sean's sake than anything, while the others would help Sheriff Stilinski and Deputy Parrish track down the hunter. Derek had wanted Isaac to go with Sean and Liam, but Isaac wasn't about to miss a chance to run with The Pack again. Derek didn't like it, and made up his mind to watch over the younger Werewolf during the search.

...

Ray noted the fact that Sean was obviously shaken by the circumstances of attack, and felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps his parents were right, and he should not have involved others, especially Sean, in their family's troubles. "Sean, thanks again for helping, but, I'm sorry I dragged you into this, after everything that happened, I should have known..."

"Hey, we have to stick together, help each other. Especially when it comes to threats like this."

Ray shook Sean's hand, and a look of concern crossed his face, "You need to get out of the rain and those wet clothes, soon. You're freezing..."

"I'll make it until I get home... Liam's going to drive me home for once." He looked over at the young Werewolf, who was staring in disbelief at the keys in his hand. "Don't worry about that creep, Scott and the others know what they're doing. He's as good as caught."

...

"Do you think it could be another Deadpool?" Brett asked, "The last thing we need is another bunch of psycho killers attacking every non-human creature in town."

"No. Danny's been keeping his eyes on any developments or lists about hunters. He can hack anything, and he knows how the hunters work." Lydia replied, "But, no. Danny would have called or said something if it was another Deadpool situation."

"In the state he's in I wouldn't bring up the idea of a new Deadpool to Sean, even if it is unfounded. This attack hit way too close to home already." Sometimes Stiles actually made sense.

"Well, why would anyone pick _this_ particular family to attack?"

"Conspiracy theories." Ray had walked up silently behind them, "That British guy, David Icke, keeps writing all these books about how we're trying to take over the world and turn humanity into one big herd of cattle. He's been demonizing us for years. The sad thing is, a lot of people believe him."

"Yeah, I read all about 'The Reptoid Invasion' online. The President, the British Royal family and pretty much every major world leader is secretly a Reptoid." Stiles said, "You guys supposedly ruled every major country and empire in history. That would be quite an accomplishment. Of course, it can't be true, besides the fact we have the dead bodies of thousands of years worth of Pharaohs, Kings, Queens and Presidents, there's the little problem of things like Revolutions, where royal families were overthrown and killed and new leaders took over. And if there was an united global conspiracy, why would Reptoids war against each other? The whole of history has been one long, ceaseless war-"

"We get the point, Stiles."

"So, you think this is basically the supernatural equivalent of a hate crime?"

Ray nodded solemnly, "Yes, I do. When you start pointing fingers at an entire race of people, bad things happen."

"There was a Japanese Internment camp in Beacon Hills during World War II." Kira noted softly. Several members of her family had been imprisoned due to their race, "That's one of the reasons the Nogitsune was summoned, revenge for the brutal mistreatment of Japanese Americans. Of course, the Nogitsune killed _everyone_ and didn't give a damn about racial discrimination."

Stiles gave a grim smile, "If there's one good thing you can say about Nogitsune, it's that he wasn't a racist. He killed _everyone_ equally."

...

After a harrowing ride home, Liam explained to Melissa what was going on as Sean took a hot shower and changed into warm sweatpants, thick socks and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Once he was warm, dry and medicated Melissa began to fuss over him with blankets and hot chocolate. Liam took a quick shower and slipped on some of Sean's clothes, a t-shirt, blue jeans and more thick socks. Along with the 2" height difference, the clothes were fairly baggy on Liam, due to the differences in muscle tone, particularly in the legs. Liam had been learning from Sean about acrobatics during his rare free time, and hoped to increase his already formidable agility and lower body strength. He walked downstairs and sat next to Sean on the couch, and the young Wendigo pulled part of his blanket over him.

Sean shook his head, "I feel awful that poor Isaac has to spend all this time out in the rain, and right after coming back, too."

"It was his choice. He didn't want Derek to baby him. And we, Wolves, I mean, enjoy the outdoors and hunting, especially with Pack."

Melissa was shocked, "Wait, Isaac is out in that storm hunting a hunter?"

"Werewolves are more resilient than Wendigo," Sean shrugged drowsily, the warmth and medication taking effect, "Like I said, I hate that he's out there, but he insisted." He yawned and leaned against Liam, "You make a good pillow. You're so warm..."

"We better get you to bed." Liam helped Sean up and to the stairs, "At least Isaac and Derek seem to be friends again."

"We gotta hang together Liam, all of us, or we'll hang separately..."

As Sean pulled himself into bed, Liam walked over to the window, watching the storm. He understood why he had been chosen to take Sean home, he and Derek were the best at keeping the Wendigo calm, and Derek was needed with The Pack. Normally being left out would make him furious, but there was a real need for someone to watch over Sean and Melissa. If that hunter knew of the Habashira family, he almost certainly knew of Scott and The McCall Pack. On a practical, if somewhat selfish, note, he was glad he wasn't out in the storm.

He heard from Sean's gentle breathing and slower heartbeat that he was already fast asleep. Normally Liam would crawl in next to him, out of pack instinct and protectiveness, but he needed to keep ready in case of an attack.

Willow walked into the room and lept up onto the bed, curling up beside the sleeping boy.

Liam shook his head and smiled. Sometimes he couldn't believe the ways his life had changed since that fateful night.

His smile instantly disappeared as he noticed a figure standing outside. He must have sensed Liam's eyes on him, because he looked up and gave a wry smile.

It was Peter Hale.

He was providing another layer of protection.

Liam nodded in recognition and Peter faded into the shadows.

...

To be continued...

Notes-

Sean still calls the car 'David's car', even though David (his brother) is dead.

David Icke is a former soccer/football player who gives speeches and writes books about how shape-changing Reptoids are taking the places of major world leaders as part of a plot to take over the world and devour humanity. He also said he was The Messiah, so I don't give his theories much credibility. And a lot of people do believe him, about the Reptoids at least. His name is pronounced _Ike_ , as in bike or Mike.

Some of the medication makes Sean extremely sleepy, but they are the ones he takes when he's getting _too_ anxious. In other words, he takes them _as needed_. He can function fine with his regular medication, which is why he's not falling asleep at school, or worse, while driving.

'Ookami' means 'Wolf' in Japanese. Ookami-Jin should translate into 'Wolf People'. It's probably not the technical term used by the Japanese to apply to the European myths of Werewolves.

I assume that in Japan a Wendigo would be called a Wendigo. If I'm wrong and anyone who speaks Japanese notices this, please PM me with the correct Japanese word.

The Japanese Internment Camps were basically concentration camps set up by the U.S. Government after Pearl Harbor. They rounded up everyone of Japanese descent they could find and imprisoned them as potential spies, including children. One of those children was George Takei, who played Sulu on the original _Star Trek_ and is a gay rights activist. He has spoken out about the camps many times, in part because the government basically swept it under the rug and no one was ever really held responsible for that shameful war crime.

At the same time, ironically, many Japanese Americans fought for the Allies during World War II, even as the U.S. government was mistreating their families.


	56. Chapter 56

Survival

Chapter 56

Conspiracy Theory

...

The search was mercifully short. The hunter hadn't gotten far, they found him sitting upright against a tree, holding a revolver in his shaking left hand. His right arm was wrapped in white bandages tinged pink with blood and water. His face was ashen, and his lips were blue.

He looked at The Pack in confusion.

"Werewolves? Y-you're in-n on it too?"

"We're not here to hurt you. You're badly injured and you look hypothermic." Scott replied, "You need to go to the hospital man, just give up."

"Y-you're with _them_."

"Them?" Scott asked.

"The lizards. T-they're not l-like any of the others. Even a Wendigo or an Aswang h-has emotions. The lizards, they're cold-blooded. They just want to kill us."

Scott shook his head like a wet dog, sending water everywhere. "What's an Aswang?"

He didn't see the figure sneaking up behind him until it was too late. Sheriff Stilinski easily knocked the gun out of the man's weakened hand and cuffed him, careful with the bandaged arm.

"Don't you see?" The hunter shouted, "They're not even from earth! They're taking over! They'll get you too!"

"Right." John said, "Just hold still and try not to injure yourself further, paramedics are on the way."

Deputy Parrish leaned down and picked up the ranting hunter, carrying him back to the road and the shelter of his police car to wait for the ambulance.

"What the Hell was that about?"

"Some people believe that man-eating Reptilian aliens are disguising themselves as our world leaders and trying to enslave the human race." Scott had heard the conspiracy before, from Stiles, 'Then we'd be their cattle."

Malia snorted, "That's nuts."

"This guy obviously believes it. And something doesn't have to be true for it influence people's minds and actions." Derek noted. He looked over at Isaac, who was trembling from the cold and rain. Werewolves were hardy creatures, but they weren't totally immune to the elements. "Isaac, let's go. Tell me where you're staying and I'll drive you there. You need to dry off and get some warm clothes. All of us do."

...

"I thought so." Ray sighed, after translating the Sheriff's account for his parents, "But there's only one way I can think of that he'd know who we were." He indicated his errant tongue, flickering in and out.

"Don't blame yourself kid. This guy's obviously insane, and he may have had access to information we don't." John was suddenly struck by something the man had said, "He knew that Scott and the others were Werewolves, and you sticking out your tongue wouldn't out Scott and the others."

"But you do need to get that tongue thing licked, no pun intended." Scott smiled. He looked like a soaked but happy puppy. "It's hard, if it's anything like our flashing eyes and tendency to growl when upset. I haven't quite mastered the whole 'hiding in plain sight' thing either. Sean has his control problems too, we all do."

"Thank you. My parents want to thank all of you too." He gave a short bow, as did his parents.

John nodded and smiled, "That's my job kid. But I'm glad I could help."

"Me too." Scott added, "Our Pack has promised to protect Beacon Hills, and everyone in it, no matter what..." He frowned, clearly looking for a word, "Uh... Type? Breed? You know what I mean, right?"

Ray laughed, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's good to have protectors instead of hunters for once."

...

The next morning,

The Pack, including Isaac, Danny and Parrish, had gathered at the McCall house to discuss everything that had gone on the day before.

Sean was looking into his hot chocolate as if it held the answer to all life's problems, "So, he was basically a lone nut?"

"Yep." Stiles put special emphasis on the 'p', "That reminds me, did I ever tell you who _really_ killed J.F.K.? You won't believe it! It was a huge conspiracy! It went all the way to-"

"Later Stiles." Derek grunted.

Stiles sat back, crossed his arms and pouted.

Parrish shrugged, "He doesn't seem to have been involved with any of the hunter families, at least, not the ones we know of. He might have been like Garrett and Violet, a freelancer. But he went over the edge somewhere. Sometimes, when a person finds out all of the Fairy Tale creatures are actually real, they just can't handle it. Maybe he found out about something he couldn't handle."

"Where is he?"

"The hospital. They have two deputies watching him."

Sean stared deeper into his cup. He remembered too well the one deputy who had been protecting him in the hospital, and who was the first and only man he'd ever killed.

"I'm sorry Sean, I just meant that he's not likely to break out or anything. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright. I'm not made of glass. I have problems, and I have regrets, but I don't want everyone to have to apologize whenever they mention something that somehow relates to what I went through. It's not good for you, and it's not healthy for me." He smiled, "I have to learn to live again, and life can be cruel. You can't, and shouldn't, shield me from everything."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Did Peter find out you caught the guy?" Liam asked, "He was here, watching to make sure nobody came in."

"Peter beat me home." Derek laughed, "Sometimes I think he's psychic."

"Did Derek Hale, the Sourwolf himself, just laugh?" Stiles asked in feigned awe, "I'm sure that's one of The Signs of The Apocalypse."

...

To be continued...

Notes -

An Aswang is a demonic entity from Filipino folklore. It is human by day, but at night becomes a vampire-like creature. It's described in many different ways, but the most infamous of its actions is to stick a long tube/proboscis into a pregnant woman and eat the unborn baby. They can be male or female. They appeared on an episode of _Grimm_ as well.


	57. Chapter 57

Survival

Chapter 57

The Performance I

...

Two months later,

The theatre was packed as everyone awaited the big show. Liam had to switch seats with Brett because the taller boy had been seated in front of him, meaning Mason had to switch seats with Hayden as their dates moved.

This was a special event, and not just because it was the first time _Cats_ had ever been performed in Beacon Hills. Two members of the McCall Pack would be performing onstage, and everyone had come out to support them.

Sean had been wildly jealous when Isaac admitted he'd seen a live production of _Cats_ in Paris. This was, of course, somewhat mitigated by the fact that Sean himself would be performing in _Cats_ , but he was still jealous.

...

Sean Walcott looked into the stage mirror and smiled widely.

The face that looked back at him, with freckles, whiskers and a light brown splotch over his right eye that stretched in a thin line over his nose was hardly recognizable. Once he attached the brown and cream wig with the woven in cat ears, he'd be ready to go on stage.

He quickly but solidly applied the tabby-colored wig over the fabric covering his own dark blond hair.

He was now Pouncival.

He was also about to go onstage, leaping across and upon several props to sit in the oversized wooden chair that overlooked the entire set.

There was absolutely no room for error. Granted, as he was playing a clumsy kitten he was expected to tumble and pratfall a bit, but not in the opening scene.

He took a deep, calming breath.

Everything was going to be fine.

Like everyone else in the musical, he'd worked his tail off, pun intended, to get here. And he intended to do his best even if the stage caught fire.

He stood up to examine his costume. It was a tight, grey, brown and cream unitard. It was _very_ tight, highlighting his muscular yet graceful body, with all of it's curves and angles. He blushed a bit at that. He caught his tail in his hand and looked it over, making sure it was firmly attached.

He took another deep breath.

He was ready.

...

The theatre was utterly silent as Sean lept into the lights, swiftly navigating the junkyard set before clearing the old car and leaping into a crouch on the chair. It was all one swift, fluid motion, and he was silent as a cat. Another cat appeared from the large pipe onstage, then another, and Kira emerged from the shadows. Once all of the cats were onstage, the singing began.

Sean waited on the chair for his cue, Tumblebrutus' line ' _Have you been an alumnus of Heaven and Hell?_ ' before jumping down to join the rest of the cast on the main stage.

...

For a student production, the show was great. Everyone remembered their lines, when the act called for synchronized work they acted as one, and the crowd loved it, even if musical theater wasn't particularly popular in Beacon Hills. Sean was surprised by the size of the audience, and relieved by the presence of so many of his close friends and adopted family. Of course, everyone else's friends and family was also present, if possible. Even Sheriff Stilinski and Deputy Parrish were there, both to keep order and enjoy the show.

Sean gave a brilliant smile toward the audience before executing a triple backflip.

He wasn't above showing off, after all.

...

Intermission.

Everyone was backstage, reapplying their cosmetics and chatting about how the show was going. Mr. Walters was complimenting the cast on their performance so far, but warning them not to get too cocky.

"Great job, man!" Ian walked up and slapped Sean on the back, "You look like a professional out there!"

"Thanks! You too. I'm trying my best, that's all I can do." He grinned, "But I'm enjoying this. Sure, the outfit is too tight for my tastes, but I'm finally getting to put all that hard work and training to good use. We all are."

Ian let his eyes run over Sean's unitard appreciatively, making the other boy blush. " _Nice_." He grinned, "I think a coupla' people fainted when they saw you in this."

Sean decided to change the subject, "You're doing great too. I'm impressed."

"If I make a good impression here, maybe I can get a bigger role."

Sean hadn't really given much thought to performing in other productions. Performers have to travel a lot, and he didn't know if it was wise for a Wendigo to follow a bunch of human performers God-knows-where. What would he eat? He also had the family business to think about, running a funeral home was not very high on most people's list of dream jobs, but it put food in the freezer... And, of course, The Pack. He couldn't imagine leaving his family, his new family, to go off and chase fame, something he didn't want in the first place.

He could simply remain in Beacon Hills, run the funeral home and perform in local productions. Assuming he did well today, of course. Things had gone well so far, but the performance was far from over...

...

"I don't think I've ever seen Sean smile so often during a single day." Melissa noted, wondering how much was acting and how much was genuine joy. She sincerely hoped that it was the latter. His sessions with Dr. Gilman had been going well, and the support of The Pack was invaluable to his healing. They had all rallied around him, even, much to her surprise, Peter Hale. She looked over at said Werewolf who was sitting quietly with Derek and Isaac.

That man was a mystery she simply could not fathom. She understood that he had been insane when he killed Laura and bit Scott, and had recovered his sanity quite well after his brief death at Derek's fangs, but he was still an admitted and unapologetic sociopath who was willing, perhaps even eager, to kill his enemies. The Mute, The Darach, possibly Matt Daehler. While she'd shed no tears for The Mute there were better ways to deal with such scum.

"Sean smiles a lot more lately," Scott added, "He understands that most of what happened was not his fault, and he's accepted his new life. He, Liam and Derek kind of anchor each other."

"It's hard to believe just a few months ago he was practically a shut-in."

"He's had to grow up fast. Too fast." Derek remarked, "He had to learn to control his hunger, his Wendigo, or die. No matter what he says about himself, he's a strong kid."

...

Mason shouldered Brett and whispered, "That outfit looks great on Sean. It really showcases his... _assets_..."

"What about _my_ 'assets'?" Brett lifted a brow and gave a mock pout. He also appreciated the skin-tight cat suits of the male performers, and Sean _was_ hot. "Do you want me to go out and buy a cat costume?"

Mason gave a flirty grin, "Or a pair of tights..."

Brett laughed and shook his finger at Mason, "You are incorrigible. Shame on you, objectifying our friend like that."

"I learned from the best."

"Since when have you been hanging out with Danny?"

"Speaking of Danny, I'm surprised he hasn't fainted yet. All these hot guys in tights..."

The both looked over at Danny, who was sitting several seats away with Josh, fanning himself despite the coolness of the theatre.

"Well, it's only intermission..."

...

" _The Naming of Cats_ really freaked me out. All of them chanting in unison like that, repeating themselves over and over. It just seemed like some sort of spell or ritual..." Hayden shook her head, "But the show is great. I had no idea Sean could sing like that. And how does he jump so high?"

"He exercises a lot. I bet he could lift a car with those legs of his. He's one of those guys that can do just about anything." Liam smirked, "Except play lacrosse. He doesn't like the idea of getting hit."

"I don't blame him. It looks like hockey without the ice. Didn't Scott break your ankle one time at a game?"

"It was just a sprain. Still, it's safer than football... I think. And it's _way_ safer than boxing. Intentionally inflicting brain-damage on yourself or others for fun is just insane."

"Agreed."

"I can't believe Kira can scream that loud," Liam made a gesture indicated his ears hurt, "I think she's part Banshee or something..."

"But she can also sing, dance and perform stunts that would break most people's backs." Hayden added.

"Sean taught me to break-dance."

"What? Cool! You'll have to show me that sometime!"

Liam grinned.

...

To be continued...

Notes-

I don't know if _Cats_ has an intermission, but for the purposes of this story it does.

Peter Hale did kill Matt Daehler to free Kamina Jackson from his control and get rid of an active threat. Melissa doesn't know he killed him, but she suspects it.

Sean is learning to be an undertaker and mortician, like his father.

I've seen Glenn McCuen breakdancing on video, it's pretty cool.

I didn't realize it, but _'Muted'_ upset me a bit more than I thought. I was looking through a magazine and saw a picture of a tomahawk, I couldn't stand to look at it and turned the page quickly. Axes make me uncomfortable as well. Thanks a lot _Teen Wolf_ writers! Now I have another phobia to deal with!

I hope to end the story within a chapter or two, life has gotten to the point where I can't give my stories the attention you, the reader, deserve. Thank you all.


	58. Chapter 58

Survival

Chapter 58

The Performance II

...

Sean picked up the golden mask he'd worn for one of the three roles he was assigned for the musical, Genghis, leader of the Siamese pirates during ' _Growltiger's Last Stand_ ', which had been performed shortly before the intermission. He'd gotten to force Growltiger to walk the plank, which was fun. He had one other minor role to play, as he set down the gilded mask and examined a black, furry mask with a long snout. There was a costume to go with it, of course. He was going to be one of the actors portraying a 'henchrat' of Macavity and aiding in the abduction of Old Deuteronomy sequence, before quickly changing back and becoming Pouncival again.

A Wendigo pretending to be a human playing a kitten, a pirate cat and a rat.

He looked down at the picture of his family on the dressing stand and felt a pang in his heart. He set the tips of two fingers against the cold glass.

 _Mom. Dad. David._

 _If only you were here._

'"Five minutes!" Someone shouted and Sean took a minute to make sure everything was properly in place and to rub a little more powder on his hands.

...

"Ouch! What was that for?" Stiles asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"I can only take so much 'jazz hands'." Malia replied.

"What is this, beat up the human day?"

"Shut up!" Derek growled, "The curtain's rising!"

"Okay, okay!"

...

Sean stood with the others as the great, glowing paw of The Everlasting Cat lowered itself for Grizabella to ascend to The Heavyside Lair. It was just a prop, of course, but the lighting and decoration made it almost believable, if one could believe a giant cat's paw reaching down frown from the heavens.

Next up was the final song, _The Ad-dressing of Cats_ , which confirmed that, no, a cat is _not_ a dog. Dogs serve while cats demand respect.

As the curtain came down Sean and several other members of the cast let out sighs of relief.

They'd done it!

A moment later everyone came out to take their bows and receive applause, which they received with gusto.

...

Melissa gave Sean a big hug as the others congratulated him on his performance. These people were his Pack, his new family, and he was filled with warmth from their affection. He might be orphaned, but he was not alone in the world. He wasn't that scared, crying boy curled up in a hospital bed, slowly starving. He was a part of something bigger and better than he'd ever imagined. As part of the McCall Pack, he could actually help people, save lives, even.

He could be strong.

He _would_ be strong.

He'd make his family, both of them, proud.

...

After posing for a few photos and talking to his friends, Sean joined the rest of the cast in heading to the afterparty. He was physically exhausted, but excitement would probably keep him up all night.

The cast, crew and teachers were all as excited as he was. Sean sat sipping a Mellow Yellow, occasionally laughing at some remark or another. They were still in full costume, so Sean was careful not to spill anything and didn't bother with the snack table.

Ian slid into the chair right next to him, smiling. "We killed it, bro!"

Sean grinned and gave him a fist bump. "Thank God! The whole time I was afraid something bad was going to happen!"

"I'm surprised your muscles didn't rip through your tights." Ian patted Sean's hard abs, "Seriously though, you were amazing."

"We all worked really hard for this."

Sean had gotten close to the other performers during the months spent training. Of course, he already knew Kira from when the Pack had taken him in, but he'd learned quite a bit about some of the others and got along with most of them. A few were total jerks and prima donnas, but most were just ordinary kids who loved performing.

He had the awful thought that his unwanted 'fame' might overshadow the performance. Pretty much everyone on earth knew who he was and the tragedy that had befallen him. He didn't want that to be what everyone would be talking about tomorrow.

Sean gave a deep sigh.

"Are you alright? You kinda spaced out there..."

Sean shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts, "I'm alright. I'm just worried about what _The Beacon_ is going to write about..."

"Don't worry about that," Ian knew Sean well enough to know what he was referring to, "Sure, they'll bring it up, but I doubt they'll just ignore the rest of us completely. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but the media leeches prefer to feed off fresh blood."

Sean smiled broadly, "Yeah. I am being kind of narcissistic, too. I'm not really important, it's not like I'm some famous actor. If, say, Morgan Freeman were playing Old Deuteronomy, then we'd have to worry."

"It would be worth it, to work with a legendary actor like Morgan Freeman."

" _I'd_ forget _I_ was in the musical if Morgan Freeman was in it." Sean replied.

"You did a good job out there." Kira slapped Sean on the back, startling him and nearly making him drop his drink, "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's alright." Sean said quickly, "I'm just jumpy, that's all." He took a deep breath, "Everyone did great today, don't you think?"

"Right."

...

By the time he arrived home Sean was too tired to do anything except pull off his sneakers and crawl into the warmth of his bed. Willow curled up beside him and within moments he was fast asleep.

...

To be continued...

Notes:

Mellow Yellow is citrus flavored and contains citric acid. Since Sean can't go around drinking straight lemon juice in public, he uses citrus drinks instead.


	59. Chapter 59

Survival

Chapter 59

The New Life

...

Taking care of two teenage boys and balancing a highly stressful career is difficult for a single parent. But add in the fact that both boys are supernatural creatures, and one is severely traumatized and has an _extremely_ unfortunate dietary requirement... It's not easy. But Melissa McCall has never done things the easy way, she does things the _right_ way. Fortunately, both boys could cook for themselves in a pinch, though she still worried about letting Scott anywhere near the stove.

She picked up the day's edition of _The Beacon_ and looked over the article again. The performance the night before had earned a rave review, and Sean was in two separate pictures, one in which he was standing with the rest of the cast, the other featuring him posing alone. She knew he'd been worried about the paper focusing more on his personal tragedies than the musical, but it garnered only a brief and solemn mention. She looked at the solo picture, with Sean's wide, joyous grin, and thought of how much he'd changed.

The first time she'd seen him, he had stumbled into the emergency room, deathly pale, shirtless and barefoot, and promptly fainted from loss of blood. After that he'd mostly wept, he'd started to steal her heart then. But then his Hunger took control. She didn't understand, at the time, she'd only seen a bloody mouthed creature crouching over a dead deputy, gnawing at his entrails before attacking her. She'd been frightened and angry, but it had still broke her heart when she heard he'd been killed by the same butcher who slaughtered his family.

Then she'd come home to find him with Scott and Stiles, alive, terrified and so vulnerable that she couldn't hold on to any resentment against him.

The creature that had attacked her was not Sean Walcott, it was his Wendigo, unleashed by pain, fear and unimaginable hunger. Sean was one of the finest boys she knew, and she was proud to have him as her ward. She looked up from her musings to see Scott walk into the kitchen, his messy, floppy hair even more wild thanks to 'bedhead'.

Scott yawned, "Is that today's paper?"

She smiled, "Yes. I think Sean's going to be happy with the review."

"I am?" Sean walked in, running a hand through his messy, dark blond hair. She noticed for the first time that his hair seemed to be slowly growing darker, he'd likely be a brunette soon.

Melissa handed him the paper, smiling.

As Sean read it over, that smile graced his handsome features, "This is great! They loved it!" He ran forward and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, perhaps a bit too tight due to his considerable strength.

"That awesome dude!" Scott patted him on the back.

The young Wendigo turned and wrapped him in a crushing hug as well.

"Dude!"

Melissa smiled and indicated the paper, "This is definitely going into our scrapbook."

...

After feeding Willow and sitting down for breakfast, Sean joined in on the discussion the McCall's were having. He was part of the family now, after all. While not officially adopted, (he'd be 18 in about a month and a half), Melissa referred to him as her son, and he sometimes called her 'mom'. It was hard, not because he didn't love and appreciate her, but because his own biological mother's murder was still fresh in his mind. It almost felt like a betrayal, but he knew his mother would want him to feel happy and loved. And he did. While Scott and Stiles were more like brothers than Scott and Sean, he understood that they'd grown up together. They had years of shared experiences, while Scott had only known him a few short months. They cared for each other, but not so strongly as brothers. If anyone, Liam was the little brother he'd never had, and they were almost inseparable. Derek was more like a grumpy but caring older brother. He was nothing like the mischievous and cheerful David, Derek was quiet, taciturn. Still, while he didn't talk much, his actions showed his love and concern for the entire Pack, and he'd helped guide Sean through some of his worst days. Peter, who most of The Pack seemed to distrust, even fear, had shown him nothing but kindness, in his own odd way.

Sure, there were arguments, even fights sometimes. Sean himself had punched Stiles, insulted Scott and threatened Kira, but such things were short-lived and typical of most families. After the tempers died down and apologies made, forgiveness was usually quick. In fact, it seemed like Scott was incapable of a grudge against anyone. He'd finally forgiven his father and accepted him, though Melissa still had issues with Agent Rafael McCall. Sean, having never personally been wronged by the man, respected him. He was intelligent, insightful and kept their secrets. He wasn't the man who'd hurt Scott so long ago, he'd pulled himself out of that pit and was trying to make things right the best he could.

That's all anyone can do, after all.

...

"Thank you. You didn't have to come with me..." Sean said as the Camaro pulled into the Beacon Hills cemetery, "It's not exactly a pleasant place."

"I don't know... I've always found it a bit peaceful." Derek replied.

"And I haven't been here for a while." Isaac added, "Dad can rot, but I want to pay my respects to Camden."

And Allison, he didn't add. He didn't need to.

Sean wondered how many of them were buried here, Pack, family, lovers. Allison. Boyd. Erica. Aiden... Probably the entire Hale family. So much loss, so much grief and pain.

And so much of it was needless. So many lives ended before their time. Before they even began.

Sean sighed and opened the trunk and they began pulling out wreaths. Derek shut the trunk as Sean's arms were full and leaned back against the vehicle, watching the boys as they walked into different areas of the cemetery.

...

Sean stood for a moment, contemplating the four headstones bearing the name Walcott. The headstones had been donated by employees of Walcott and Sons Funeral Home before he'd come out of hiding, thus he could come and stand before his own grave. He'd decided to keep it, as he highly doubted he'd live forever, though the date of death was removed. Beside what was to be his grave stood a tall statue of a crying angel.

He gave a slight smirk, knowing that if he were alive David would be behind him, warning in a spooky voice ' _Don't blink, Sean!_ ' The statue was an anonymous gift from someone who had been touched by his story. It was amazing how the world could produce people who could murder and abuse their own families, and people who could send out their hearts to complete strangers who were suffering.

After a short prayer, he gently placed a wreath of roses on his mother's grave, yellow, her favorite kind.

 _Christina O'Neill Walcott_

 _Beloved Wife and Mother_

He swallowed hard and turned to his father's grave.

 _Michael Walcott_

 _Beloved Husband and Father_

His father hadn't been much for flowers, and it drove him crazy that the wallpaper in their house was a floral pattern. But he was still a proud Scotsman, and the Scottish National Flower, the purple thistle, symbolic of the toughness and strength of his land and people, would undoubtedly have pleased him.

 _David Walcott_

 _Beloved Son and Brother_

David was a hard one. If left up to him, he'd probably have picked mushrooms or one of those stinking corpse plants. He was a 'the uglier the better' type guy when it came to things like plants and animals.

Sean had went with purple thistle, in part because of his heritage and in part because David had no interest in flowers.

As he wiped a tear from his eye, Sean noticed a scent being carried in the wind. It was one he knew well, a combination of grief, pain and rage.

Isaac.

He turned in the British Werewolf's direction to see that Derek was already by his side, soothing him. For someone who seemed so aloof, Derek was there when his friends needed him, an emotional support despite his own pain. Sean couldn't blame Isaac for his rage towards his cruel, sadistic father.

Once again he thanked God that he had come from a loving family who'd never harmed him.

He stood and walked over to the two Werewolves, ready to supply what comfort he could. They all had to stick together to survive, but, beyond that, they were family.

They were lost and damaged, bereaved but not broken. Love would be the bond to hold The Pack together.

He knelt beside Isaac and put a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder.

After a short time Isaac stood and walked wearily towards another grave, where he knelt in silence.

Sean had never met Allison Argent. He'd seen pictures of her, met her father, heard stories about her. But she died before he had even heard of the McCall Pack. From what he understood, and what he could see on Isaac's face, the two had been extremely close. She'd died in his arms during the battle against the Nogitsune, an enemy he was intensely grateful never to have encountered.

Sean and Derek stepped back to let Isaac have his privacy, and Derek wandered to a nearby grave. It was marble, with fine craftsmanship, obviously whoever it had been had been both wealthy and beloved. Derek's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched as he stood over the grave, projecting such wrath that Sean had to take a step back.

 _Kate Argent_

 _Beloved Daughter._

Gerard Argent had spared no expense honoring the mass-murdering bitch who'd destroyed countless lives. He was proud of her. Proud that she'd seduced and raped a fifteen year old boy, burned his entire family to death and tortured him for kicks.

Gerard's pride and joy.

He wasn't surprised when Derek shifted himself to block Isaac's view, unzipped his pants and left a liquid expression of his contempt on her headstone and grave.

Isaac would have heard, or smelled such an act easily, especially being only a few feet away, but he was lost in his own memories. If he noticed anything, he obviously didn't care.

Sean was surprised to find that he didn't care, either.

...

In that night's puppy pile Sean once again found himself entangled with Liam Dunbar. Liam had recently turned sixteen and had a steady relationship with Hayden. Sean was happy for him, he'd suffered so much since that terrible night on the hospital roof, when both their lives had changed forever. He deserved comfort and affection. Liam snuggled closer against Sean's muscular chest, and not for the first time Sean worried what Hayden, or anyone not familiar with 'puppy piles' would make of a nearly eighteen year old boy sleeping with a sixteen year old in his arms. But they were Pack, brothers.

Isaac, whom he still didn't know as well as he would like, was curled around Sean, sandwiching him between the two. Isaac was family too, he'd suffered more than his share of tragedy, pain and loss. Like Sean, his entire family was dead, his parents and older brother. The latter two had died by violence, Camden in service to the U.S. military and their abusive, sadistic father at the order of Matt Daehler.

Everyone in the Pack had a story everyone had their own share of guilt, grief and loss. Apart, they would have been lost souls drifting through life, together they were strong, brave, even heroic. If one Pack member hurt, they all hurt, and they all came together to help sooth that hurt. Together, there was nothing they could not overcome.

As sleep overtook him there was one thought on Sean Walcott's mind.

 _Life is good._

...

The End

Notes-

We need more authors writing Sean Walcott stories! Hopefully I can write a few one-shots every so often based on my _Sean is Pack_ AU.

The statue is of an Angel weeping, but it doesn't look like and is not a Weeping Angel from _Doctor Who_.

David Walcott was an odd person. Good, but odd.

The Corpse or Carrion Flower ( _Rafflesia_ ) is a large plant that creates a massive, fleshy red flower that smells distinctly like rotting meat. The scent is used to draw in flies and other carrion insects that pollinate the plants.

I'm sorry this has taken so long, but real life has taken a toll on me. I'll get through it, I always do, but I apologize to all of you who have had to wait so long for updates.

Thank you for your support and patience.


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